


Protective Custody

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: COMPLETE in draft, Chris/Issac secondary to STEREK, Cliffies, Consent Issues (if you turn sideways and squint), Contemporary ALL human AU, Control Issues, D/s, Daddy/Boy themes, Dom/Cop/Chris, Dom/Cop/Derek, Drugs Mentioned, Explicit/Graphic/M/M/Sex, Kink, M/M, Mental Coercion, Moral Ambiguity, No Age Play, Posted every Friday and Tuesday until complete, Restraint/Discipline, Set in LA, Sexual Coercion, Stiles dad is a waste of space, Sub/Deliquent/Stiles, Sub/Whore/Issac, Threesome, Unbeta'd but part pre-read by Bursa, Varying Chapter Lengths, Vice Cops, collaring, mild punishment
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-05-08
Packaged: 2018-03-19 21:20:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 30,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3624657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is alone in the big City and not doing well. Desperate times call for desperate measures but deciding to mug someone using the ATM wasn't his brightest idea, especially when it turns out to be a cop: A vice cop called Derek Hale. A complex man with control issues and a kinky SOB who doesn't like doing paperwork...</p><p>"Stiles ducked and was pushed none too gently into the car. He scrambled in, it was difficult with his hands still cuffed and the metal bit painfully  into his wrists. He sprawled, toppling sideways across the  back seat and struggled to right himself. His heart pounded, this might not be his wisest move and he definitely got the feeling that this cop was not to be fucked with. No-one knew where he was and  wouldn't have given a fuck in any case. For all he knew  the cop  was dangerous and as kinky as hell. </p><p>All in all and  in more ways than one, he was totally fucked."</p><div class="center">
  <p>COMPLETE in draft. Posted Tuesdays and Fridays until complete.</p>
</div>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay soooo back sooner then expected. I discovered this lurking on my HD the VERY FIRST STEREK I ever wrote, pre-dating both MBDTK and MA. It has languished unloved and unedited for over 3 years, I've dusted it off, organized it into chapters and I'm editing it as I post. It won't be lengthy (15-20) chapters depending on how many words I have each chapter. It's an unusual story for me and possibly not that great, but I thought I'd post it while I'm completing 'Black Flag'. Please bear in mind it WAS a first attempt at STEREK when reading.

The slender young man in ratty blue jeans clung to the shadows and avoided the insipid yellow beam of the street light as it slanted across the deserted sidewalk. Stiles looked about him and pulled the hood of his thin, dark red hoodie over his head, it was cold and just his luck, starting to rain. The ATM was situated at the end of a row of small convenience stores, a laundromat, tattoo parlor and drug store all shut at this time of night. Only one street lamp was lit, so it was set in shadow and this was a garbage blown, lonely spot at the best of times.

This wasn't the best of times. 

It was a poor, run down part of town that Stiles knew well with cracked paving and grass struggling to grow in the gaps. He lived less than a block away though never visited the ATM, why would he? He had no money. That was the point and why he had been driven out into the night. He'd spent his last three dollars on a burger and that was the only time he'd eaten in nearly four days, he was starving... Literally.

The rent was due on his tiny, damp, one roomed apartment and it was a month since he'd been laid off from his job as a dishwasher at the diner. He had tried to get work but the recession was biting hard and there were twenty or more boys like himself for every menial, minimum wage job, he was desperate. It was rob someone or sell himself on the street and with his luck he'd get killed before he made any money that way and in any case who would pay for sex with a thin, pale, mole ridden boy like him? He sighed and reached into his pocket and his fingers curled around his _weapon_. A car appeared, a black Camaro, headlights skimming over him for a moment as he ducked back into the shadows and watched it pull up. The engine cut out and the driver's door opened. A man got out, slim, broad shoulders wedged into the dark jacket of a suit, slightly taller than himself, fairly young, certainly not old, with dark hair and he moved with a panther's grace toward the ATM. Stiles looked around and seeing the street deserted, started cautiously forward.

Derek pulled up at the end of the little row of stores. The nice ATM he usually went to, the one with proper cover from the elements and street lighting that worked was, of course, out of order. It had just been that sort of day. Double shift, bad food, grouchy partner, and he was just wanting to get himself some money so he could order Chinese when he got home and chill out with a beer. The raindrops hit with a wet splat on the back of his neck as he got out of his car and he cursed under his breath and turned up his collar. He hurried up to the ATM and the scant amount of cover the overhang offered. He pulled out his ATM card and worked the buttons as quickly as he could. It only took a few moments for the ATM to spit out the money, three crisp $20 bills. 

Stiles was no expert and his approach to the man wasn't especially stealthy. He glanced at the car, it looked a nice ride and the man fairly well dressed and average looking. Perhaps his luck had changed? He hoped so because he wasn't really cut out for violence. The man seemed preoccupied and didn't acknowledge his approach and when he was near enough instead of pulling his weapon out of his pocket, he stretched his pocket forward and pushed it firmly into the small of man's back. "Don't turn around, I don't want your card, just hand over the cash. I don't want to have to hurt you." His hand was shaking and his voice quaked.

Derek groaned internally as he felt something poke at his back. His partner had better never hear of this or he'd never stop teasing Derek over it. Letting some punk kid get the jump on him? But for now he had to get a handle the situation. "Okay, okay, here you go." Derek started to turn as if to give him the money, but instead whipped around quickly, grabbing the kid and shoving him back against the car. He pushed him down against the hood and tried to pin down the arm that held the weapon. "Hand it over, scum bag. You're messing with a cop here, don't make it worse." 

Stiles struggled desperately, squirming and kicking out aimlessly, more so when the guy said he was a cop, it was just his fucking luck. A forearm was placed against his throat. "Let go of me you fucking bastard," he croaked and his air was cut off as the cop put his weight on his throat. Strong fingers grasped his right wrist and pulled his hand from his pocket and twisted viciously. Stiles gave a grunt of pain and nerveless fingers dropped this weapon to the ground with a dull _thunk_.

Derek finally forced out the weapon, and then had to laugh when he saw what dropped. "A fucking dildo? You were trying to rip me off with a fucking dildo in your pocket?" Derek reached with one hand into his pocket and pulled out a pair of handcuffs, slapping a cuff on one wrist and then flipped the kid over onto his stomach with practiced ease, cuffing the other wrist. "Stop struggling, punk, only gonna make it harder on you." He kicked Stiles's legs apart. "What the fuck did you think you were up to with that?" 

Stiles felt his face flame with embarrassment and frustration. He gave up struggling as soon as the first cuff surrounded his wrist in a cold, hard metal bracelet. He grunted as he was flipped and his arm yanked around his back and the second cuff applied. "It was all I had, wasn't going to use a real gun was I? too fucking dangerous someone could have gotten hurt, probably me." He added ruefully. He winced as his ankles were roughly kicked apart and his face pushed into the metal of the hood.

Derek started patting down the young man. "You could have just not done it. You don't have anything in your pockets that's gonna stab me, right? No knives, no needles?" As he was working him over, he realized this meant he was going to have to take this punk in and process him. Two hours at least before he'd be able to finish up and head home again. Great. Yet another topper to a crappy day. 

Stiles shook his head. "If I had a knife I'd have used that instead of the fucking dildo and I don't do drugs, at least not anymore. I did a spell in Juvie for dealing Pot," he ground out panting against the warm, hard metal. "I have no fucking money, I've eaten one burger in four days and the rent's due on my crummy apartment at the end of the week, I have no job. What the fuck was I supposed to do asshole?" He spoke with a great more bravado than he felt.

Derek kicked his legs apart further. "Not my problem, jerkwad." He finished his pat down and stepped back a step, looking down at the young man now spread on his hood, slowly getting wet in the rain. A little wisp of an idea came to him, and the more he considered it, the better it looked. "You know, you're a pain in the ass for me. I was headed home and doing paperwork on you is gonna take a couple hours. You want to handle this without going to jail?" 

Stiles raised his head a little and blinked against the rain which had begun to seep through his hoodie and dripped from his hair into his eyes. His clothes were damp and clammy against his skin, the chill made his body tremble and his brown eyes strolled up and down the cop warily. He pulled himself up from the hood his eyes narrow and suspicious. "Whatcha mean? You're a cop, you're going to turn me in whatever," Stiles reasoned.

"Suit yourself." Derek pulled him, one hand on the cuffs, the other gripping his shoulder. "Into the car, off we go. The guys in the holding tank are gonna love a cute little piece of fresh meat like you." 

Stiles felt cold fear course through him. He'd be lucky if he lasted more than an hour in the tank. "Wait! " Stiles pulled back. "What you got in mind?"

Derek pulled Stiles closer and whispered into his ear. "Well, I was headed home. Had a rough day and could use a little company tonight, help me unwind."

Stiles's eyes widened as he was pulled close enough to the cop to feel the heat he generated, his breath puff against the shell of his ear and his hard, muscled body. His mind raced he wasn't exactly a virgin, he and Scott had messed around before his dad had thrown him out of the house and he'd hitched to LA, but he'd never done it for money or a favor. His eyes flickered to the cop's face. He wasn't hard on the eye, thick black hair, wide dark brows above amazingly pale green eyes, a blade nose, sensuous mouth and lean, square jaw shadowed with dark stubble that looked good on him. It was a simple choice, one night with the cop or he took his chance with Bubba and the boys in the tank. He hesitated and then swallowed and inclined his head."Ok," he whispered.

Derek nodded. "Smart choice." He opened the back door of the car. "Get in. I'll un cuff you at my apartment." He had to admit to a little thrill at this. It was definitely wrong, but dammit the young punk had brought it on himself with this stunt. He was lucky Derek hadn't been someone with an itchy trigger finger. 

Stiles ducked and was pushed none too gently into the car. He scrambled in, it was difficult with his hands still cuffed and the metal bit painfully into his wrists. He sprawled, toppling sideways across the back seat and struggled to right himself. His heart pounded, this might not be his wisest move and he definitely got the feeling that this cop was not to be fucked with. No-one knew where he was and wouldn't have given a fuck in any case. For all he knew the cop was dangerous and as kinky as hell. 

All in all and in more ways than one, he was totally fucked.


	2. Chapter 2

Derek strolled around to the driver's door and opened it and slid smoothly behind the wheel and closed the door. He glanced at Stiles struggling to sit upright on the tight back seat as he fastened his seatbelt and started the car and pulled away from the little strip-mall with his _prisoner_ in the back. He studied the boy in the rear-view mirror. "What's your name?" He asked casually.

"Stilinski, my first name's unpronounceable," the youth shrugged, "my family's from Poland and my mom named me after my grandfather, but everyone calls me Stiles." Stiles responded trying to get into a comfortable position and relieve the bite of metal on his wrists.

"Everyone calls me Detective Hale or Derek." Derek settled back into his seat. He was getting another little thrill watching Stiles squirm on the back seat. His partner teased him about how he liked that, even as he shared the same little kink. 

The power. 

Derek had to be careful about it, because the power was like a drug. It was heady and sweet and there was always the temptation to take just a little more. 

Stiles glanced at the back of Derek's head. "Derek. " He repeated the name rolling off his tongue. Stiles squirmed a bit more and then gave up, deciding that he'd never be comfortable with his hands cuffed behind his back.

"Yeah or Detective Hale, but I don't mind if you call me _Sir_." There was a crooked smile hovered around the sensuous mouth and an odd inflection in the cop's voice that made Stiles raise his head. "Settle back, there's not far to go."

Stiles leaned back against the leather seat as best as he was able and looked out of the side windows at the wet, dark, street. There was still traffic even at this time of night and now and again he blinked as a headlight picked him out. He hadn't been in LA long and never strayed much from the poor neighborhood he lived in, but he knew enough to know they were headed to a nicer part of the City.

The drive didn't take long. Derek was a cop. He made a decent salary but not a great one, and he didn't waste his money trying to live someplace fancy. It was a little ethnic neighborhood, clean and reasonably safe but not overly expensive. He pulled into the garage underneath his apartment. He got out, coming to the passenger door, opening it and tilting the front seat forward. "Out!" He barked and then added more softly, "We're here." He gestured to Stiles to get out. 

The garage was dimly lit and had a row upon row of numbered bays, all were occupied. Stiles scrambled from the backseat and swung out his legs, bent over and ducked and then straightened. Derek grasped his arm to steady him and drew him into his side and then he slammed the door shut.

Derek guided him over to a door, which he unlocked, leading to a stairway up. Derek popped the lock behind him as he herded Stiles upstairs. He unlocked the back door to his apartment. He seldom used the front door, that was only for guests arriving. They were in the utility room, where his washer and dryer were. Derek herded Stiles inside and stepped in after him, locked and bolted the door behind him before he unlocked Stiles's cuffs. "Off with those wet clothes. You can dump them in the washer there." He instructed roughly and shucked off his jacket laying it on top of the washer and started removing his own shirt, undoing the cuffs, pulling off his tie which he tossed on top of his jacket and unbuttoning the front. Derek rolled his shoulders and the shirt slid off down his arms and he tossed it carelessly through the open door of the washing machine. 

Stiles's eyes darted around taking everything in, this must be a posh apartment if it had a utility room. He rubbed his wrists and got pins and needles as the blood returned. He shivered, he was cold and wet but he hesitated to do as Derek told him and watched as he removed his shirt and revealed the tanned skin and the rippling muscles of a toned body. Slowly Stiles peeled off his hoodie. "I have nothing to put on."

"I'll get you a pair of sweat pants. Just don't want you dripping water all over my carpet. Now get those wet clothes off." Derek's tone was firm, no nonsense. The cop hadn't gotten really soaked, he'd only been out briefly and was wearing a jacket , but Stiles was dripping. 

Stiles jumped a little when Derek barked at him and pulled off his hoodie. He only had a thin, cotton tee shirt underneath and the rain had soaked through enough that it clung wet, translucent and clammy to his body, he yanked it out of the top his jeans, peeled it from his skin and threw it into the machine after Derek's shirt. He toed off his sneakers and his hands drifted to the button on his jeans he glanced up and then popped it and began to slowly lower the zip and peel the soaking denim fabric from his hips and legs. He stepped out of them and stood in his boxers and socks. His boxers were wet too and clung to his ass, he hesitated.

Derek watched Stiles as he stripped and got his first really good look at him. He was young, Derek could tell that, but presumably of legal age if he had his own place. He had thick dark hair that would probably look much better dried and styled but for now it was wet and all askew. He had dark brown puppy-dog eyes with insanely long, dark lashes, full pink lips and an upturn to the end of his nose. He was slight with nice lean muscles, and pretty, creamy skin speckled with dark moles. Derek let himself picture Stiles slicked up with suntan lotion catching a few rays on the beach. He enjoyed the view of Stiles bent, taking off his jeans. It gave him pleasant thoughts of what was yet to come. But he frowned when Stiles hesitated at the boxers. "I'm going to see the rest tonight," he said matter-of-factly, " what's the problem? You want wet boxers to wear home or nice clean ones?"

Stiles felt Derek's eyes on him, appraising him. It was true what good was false modesty? He'd done the crime, been caught and now it was time to ante up and his ass for the night was the price. He hooked his thumbs over the waist of his boxers and pulled them off, stepped out of them and tossed them into the machine with his jeans and irritably yanked off his socks and threw them in as well. He cupped his groin with his hands. He raised his chin. "Satisfied?" There was more of a challenge in his tone than Stiles intended and he cringed automatically from the anticipated blow.

Derek frowned inwardly, his face an unfathomable mask at the rebellious tone and Stiles flinch, he'd bet there was a story there. He licked his lips slowly, letting his eyes heat and travel slowly, pointedly over Stiles's body. "Not yet but I will be." He closed the door, poured some liquid detergent into the washer and started it. "Come on, let's get you and me both dry." He curled strong fingers around one of Stiles's slender forearms to pull him along towards the bedroom. 

Stiles shivered at Derek's tone and inferred meaning as the cop grasped his arm firmly enough to leave bruises on his pale skin and towed him along in this wake into the next room. Stiles bare feet slapped against the wooden flooring and he curled his toes into the plush rug. It was nice, nothing special but neat, tidy. Stiles took in the leather sofa and chairs, glass topped coffee table, with the laptop on it, book shelves, wide TV and games console, music center, a shelf with CDs, DVDs and Blu Ray discs stacked on it, pictures on the wall, and a few nick knacks on the flat surfaces, a floor to ceiling bookcase laden with books, magazines and a couple of photos in silver frames. Derek didn't give him time to stop and look around, towing him in the direction of a closed door.

Derek opened the bedroom door and tugged Stiles inside. The bedroom was like the rest of his apartment, comfortable but simple. Nice queen-sized bed, dresser, nightstand, closet, chair and a smaller TV to put on before he went to sleep or woke up. He pulled two pairs of gray sweat pants out of a drawer, then opened the door to the bathroom. "Come in and towel off. We'll get dressed then we can have some Chinese delivered. You said you were hungry, and so am I." 

Stiles looked at the sweat pants in Derek's hand, they were like carrots to a donkey and where they went Stiles was going to follow. He stepped after Derek."I'm fucking _starving_ ," he answered with feeling.

Derek handed Stiles a thick towel and the sweat pants, then he toed off his loafers and started skimming out of his suit trousers but left his boxers on. He went for comfort at home. He pulled on the sweat pants and started toweling at his upper body and scrubbing his hair dry. 

Stiles took the sweat pants and the thick towel and quickly dried himself off and then pulled them on. He was a little shorter and much less muscular than Derek, weeks of living on baked beans and whatever was cheap and then hardly anything at all had seen him shed weight and he was never fat. Derek glanced at the youth and scowled slightly at the show of ribs and sharp hip bones. "Then we'll order lots." He commented. "There's good Chinese in this neighborhood." Stiles cinched the cord tightly around his waist and stood toweling his hair. Derek was talking to him in an easy, casual manner and that and the warmth from the apartment and Stiles began to relax a little. "I Love Chinese food and pizza, but not together 'cos y'know, ewwww." He wrinkled up his nose.

Derek chuckled. "I agree, eww. I never eat pizza at home, too much of that at work. Pizza, burgers, lots of greasy junk. I eat more healthy food at home." Derek finished toweling and ducked scooping up his trousers and tossed them with his towel into a wicker clothes hamper in the corner of the room, but left his loafers where they lay. "When you finish come join me in the living room." Derek padded off barefoot into the living room, sat on the couch and grabbed a menu out of his little stack of them on the coffee table, picked up the cordless telephone from its base and started pressing buttons. He ordered a lot of food, his usual Kung Po Chicken, Fillet Steak with Ginger and Spring Onions, extra rice plus some less complex stuff he figured a young guy like Stiles would prefer, sweet and sour, chow mien, noodles that sort of thing. 

Stiles wandered back into the bedroom and took his time toweling off his hair and let his eyes wander around, there appeared nothing out of the ordinary, nothing scary, no sign of restraints or paddles. He ducked back into the bathroom and tossed his towel into the hamper and then padded in the direction Derek had gone, his bare feet slapped against wood laminate flooring of the short hallway and then sunk into the thick, soft carpet of the living room. He waggled his toes and curled them enjoying the warmth and softness under his feet. Derek was busily ordering from a brightly colored menu and Stiles's mouth drooled in anticipation.

Derek returned the phone to its base after he ordered, then got up off the couch. "I'm getting a beer for myself. Want something?" He moved into the small, tidy kitchen, opening his fridge and pulling out a cold bottle of beer. "I've got beer, water, juice, couple cans of soda..." 

Stiles wanted to say beer but,"I'll have a soda please," came out automatically. He perched on the edge of the sofa, it was comfortable."You have a nice apartment," he said casually.

Derek grabbed a can of soda, handed it to Stiles and then settled onto the couch next to him, their thighs touching. He twisted the top off his beer and took a swig, giving a satisfied hum as it hit the back of his throat. "Thanks. I'm careful with my money, just like to be comfy when I come home." Derek tilted his head, looking speculatively at Stiles. "You always live in that neighborhood?" 

Stiles pulled back the tab on his can and it hissed and he took a swig. "Since I've been in LA, about six months now, before that I lived in Beacon Hills about a hundred miles from Sacramento." Stiles replied.

"Haven't heard of it. Nice little town, surely, with nice little houses?" 

Stiles snorted. "Yeah mostly, but not so much where I lived."

Derek's eyebrows rose. "Ah, so you moved to the big bad city to make your fortune?" It was a sad, familiar story.

Stiles gave a tight smile. "I didn't have a lot of choice. " Stiles hands wrapped around the can. It was chilled and condensation seeped through his fingers and rolled down to his wrist. He wasn't especially happy about talking about his life on the other hand Derek could run his prints and get all the sordid details, probably go easier if he told him. "I did six months in juvie for dealing Pot and when I came out, my bedroom was let to a lodger and my dear dad let me rent the basement. When I couldn't make rent he threw me out with one suitcase and twenty dollars. There was no work in Beacon Hills so I hitched a ride here, figured I could work for minimum wage."

Derek nodded. "Sounds like a pretty shitty father. What about mom?"

The boy's face tightened. "She died when I was nine." 

Derek had a policy of not doing sympathy, he'd heard too many sob stories that turned out to be lies. "So L.A. Hasn't work out so well so far?" 

Stiles took a swallow of his soda. "I got a job washing dishes at a diner and a crummy one room apartment I could hardly afford, but they were nice people at the diner and they fed me whatever was left at the end of the day. I share a bathroom with three other people and the apartment with roaches and a rat I call Greenberg after a kid at school. We all enjoy the damp and the attractive mold on the walls," he said sarcastically, "least we did. They had to let me go at the diner, it was barely earning enough to pay the cook and the girl waiting tables. Rent's due and I haven't a dime to my name. That's why..." His voice trailed away as he ducked his head. "Dad always said I'd never amount to anything, " he raised one hand and rubbed his nape, "guess he was right."

"Damn. So you took your chances." Derek did feel a little sorry for him. But the night could have ended a lot worse. He could have tried to rob someone who thought he was carrying a real gun and who didn't have any compunction about shooting first and asking questions later. He made a mental note to maybe figure out some places for Stiles to get help, but his reverie was broken by a knock on the front door. Derek got up and came back with a cardboard box heaped with boxes and containers of Chinese food. "Dinner." 

Stiles's nose twitched as the delicious aromas wafted to him and his mouth salivated. His eyes lit up hopefully and right on cue his stomach gave a loud rumble.

Derek chuckled. "You _are_ hungry, apparently." He got some plates and silverware from the kitchen, came back and arranged the boxes on the coffee table. "Help yourself, there's plenty. Anything left over we can have for breakfast." 

Stiles's eyes flickered nervously up to Derek's face, "I never had Chinese for breakfast," he mumbled...


	3. Chapter 3

Dinner had finished long ago, and they'd spent a little while relaxing, watching television. Derek had gone through a couple of beers, just enough to take the edge off his tension from the day. Finally he clicked off the TV with the remote. "Time for bed," he said, looking pointedly at Stiles.

Stiles did a passable imitation of a rabbit caught in headlights and his heart rate increased. He had been lulled into a false sense of security. His stomach was more full than it had been for months, he was warm and he got lost in the television program and the easy conversation, stupidly he'd forgotten why and how he came to be there. Now reality crashed in on him and fear uncoiled in his stomach. It wasn't that Derek was awful, he wasn't. He was roguishly handsome and pleasant enough and he hadn't be particularly unkind but it was obvious what he expected and it was time for Stiles to ante up. Stiles hesitated and swallowed. "I, I haven't..... before." He stammered.

Derek raised an eyebrow. "Haven't what before?"

"Been with a man....I mean I _have_ messed around with my friend Scott, but nothing heavy, serious. I've never, you know..." Stiles prayed Derek wouldn't make him say it.

"Ah." Derek smiled a crooked smile. The boy was either a very good liar or a lot greener than he looked. Should be interesting to find out which. "Well, tonight isn't exactly the night to pop your cherry then. Plenty we can do without that." He stood up and moved over to the bedroom door. "Come on then." 

Stiles felt an initial wave of relief, he and Scott had played around until Scott decided he really like girls and Stiles was sent to juvie, surprisingly he'd got lucky and been left alone there so his experiences were definitely limited. He glanced nervously at Derek, the guy was a cop what could he possibly do to him beyond making him give a blow job and possibly a wank? Stiles felt a little of his bravado return and he stood and slowly followed in his wake.

Derek closed the bedroom door with a click once they were both inside. He looked over at Stiles. Such a pretty boy, he thought. He let his eyes wander all over Stiles, taking his time. He'd had prostitutes in here before, and with them it was all business, get it done and they'd be on their way. But Stiles wasn't a prostitute. Derek moved in against Stiles, strong hands on his hips, leaning in for a kiss. 

Stiles was taken by surprise and reared back a questioning look on his face. He felt Derek's hands tighten on his hips and tug him flush against him. The cop leaned further forward and Stiles's eyes crossed as he tried to track the mouth coming closer and then Derek's warm lips slanted over his own. It was a firm kiss but not brutal and Derek's lips worked against his own and Stiles's eyes fluttered shut.

Derek lingered over the kiss, taking advantage of it to press in closer and grind thick column of flesh against Stiles. He was savoring the feel of his body, taking in his scent. He slowly ended the kiss, still holding Stiles in close with those commanding hands on his hips. He rocked his own hips a bit, still grinding, his cock stirring to life with the contact. 

Stiles felt Derek's cock harden against him and despite himself a shiver of arousal coursed through him. He was in a unique position. He didn't know the man who was making him so unsettled, he was here in preference to going to jail and yet he felt a frisson of attraction unfurling within him and with it his cock seemed to develop a life of its own and it twitched.

Derek's hands moved, slipping under the waistband of the sweatpants Stiles wore, pushing them down. He cupped Stiles's ass lightly, pressing them even closer together, Stiles's naked body against his half-clothed one. He kissed Stiles's shoulder. "You're very sexy," he said. 

Stiles's skin pressed against Derek's and the warmth of his hands on his ass seemed to sear his round cheeks. He pulled his head up sharply when he heard Derek's words, nobody had ever spoken to him like this and he made a small involuntary noise in his throat and blood flowed to into his cock. "You don't," Stiles hesitated, "you don't have to be nice to me, I know why I'm here. " His stomach twisted as he waited for Derek's reply.

Derek's grip on Stiles's ass tightened slightly. "I said you're sexy because _I_ wanted to and you are." There was a thrill in his belly though, a reminder of the power he held over the youth. His brow furrowed. "Are you wanting me to treat you badly?" He asked cautiously. He got off on power, control and submission, not necessarily brutality.

Stiles's eyes widened a coil of nervous fear and excitement uncurling in his stomach and causing it to flutter. "No, no I didn't mean that." Stiles ducked his head a little. "I just meant no one has ever said anything like that to me."

"Mmm, that's a shame. You're a very lovely young man." Derek's hands roamed now, stroking over Stiles's ass, his back, skimming his shoulders. He kissed on Stiles's neck, then nipped lightly with blunt teeth. 

Derek's hands ghosted over his skin causing goose bumps to rise in their wake. The small nip startled Stiles and from somewhere he heard a soft whine and realized it came from himself. He pressed into Derek's touch almost involuntarily. 

Derek liked the little whine. The sound went right to his cock. He started slowly walking Stiles backwards until Stiles's knees met the edge of the bed, then pressed him back onto the mattress. Derek crawled onto the bed arching over Stiles, kissing along his body, working his way up, finally sliding his hands over Stiles's arms and pinning his wrists into the pillows. 

Stiles was lost in Derek's kisses, his lips dragging over his heated skin caused him to arch into the contact with a moan. Derek's hands slid along his arms, gentle and stroking and then powerful fingers encircled his wrists and pinned them. Stiles's eyes widened and he pushed against the hands holding him down, questions in his eyes.

Derek's hands held firm as Stiles pushed back. His lips captured Stiles's in a hungry, possessive kiss. The slight struggle excited him. He broke the kiss, finally. "Going somewhere?" His voice clearly held a note of amusement.

Stiles looked up at him with puffy lips and dazed eyes, the kiss had sent his senses reeling and his frantic pulls eased to small struggles like a frightened bird. "No." He breathed softly.

Derek smiled, sliding his hands over and pulling out restraints from under the sheets. "That's right, you're not." He let them just lay there, moving back to kissing Stiles, waiting to see his reaction. 

Being held with hands was one thing, being _tied_ down was another. Stiles's dark eyes became wary, even though Derek's kisses were distracting him, he pulled back. "What are you going to do with those?"

I'm going to tie you up, of course," Derek said in a matter-fact tone. "What else?" 

Stiles tried to pull away. "I don't want tying up." He shook his head. "I don't know you, you might do anything."

"And I don't know you. I had you in handcuffs earlier, Stiles. If I wanted to do something to harm you I could have done it then." 

Stiles blinked. This heart hammered in his chest, but it was true. Stiles had, had his hands cuffed behind his back, if Derek had wanted to hurt him, he only had to drag him into a back alley or drive somewhere quiet, Stiles couldn't have stopped him. But he hadn't, he'd brought him home, washed his clothes, let him shower, fed him and if he wasn't kind, Stiles certainly had been treated well. It would be strange now if he was going to hurt him. "Will you release me if I ask?" It was a million dollar question.

Derek didn't really care for being questioned, but he did really want to get Stiles into the restraints. "Yes." 

Stiles looked at him a pensive shimmer in his eyes, he hadn't really expected any other answer. The man wanted to restrain him and of course he was going to say he'd let him go if he asked, it was really a pointless question. The main crux of the matter was if Stiles could _trust_ him and whilst part of him screamed that he'd have to be a fool to do that, another said, 'what choice did he have?' Derek could force the issue and although Stiles was wiry, Derek was a cop, muscled and trained in fighting and restraining. A cop... That was the thing, obviously one with a kink but dangerous? Probably not. Stiles weighed his options, came up short and though he hated himself for doing it, nodded his head. "Ok," he mumbled.

Derek nodded, leaning down to press against Stiles as he pulled the wrist restraints closer. These were the mild ones for play, soft lined that only secured with velcro and straps. It was the power Derek liked, the feeling of having a man restrained and under his control, more than anything else that got him off. He kissed Stiles over and over as he worked the wrist cuffs on by touch, one at a time, and strapped them securely. "Mmm, much better," he all but purred. He sat up, still straddling Stiles, and moved his hands down to toy with Stiles's nipples. He was taking in the sight of the lovely young man all tied up for him and it made his cock throb. 

Stiles pulled against the restraints experimentally.They didn't look like it would take much to pull free of them but they held, obviously stronger than they looked. A sharp tweak to his nipple brought his mind into focus and the dusky nub wrinkled and hardened to a dagger point under Derek's fingers. He felt the pull and draw as the tissue hardened and he gave an involuntary gasp and looked up at the honed body of the man straddling him.

"You see," Derek said, sliding down Stiles body a bit. "I've found that young men are too impatient. They want to hurry through everything. And they can't keep still for the good parts." Derek got up off the bed, going to the bedside table and coming back with some lube, some dental dams, and a package of wet naps. He tossed them down on the bed, then crawled up between Stiles's legs, pushing his thighs apart. He squirted a bit of lube onto his hand. "Don't worry, I told you, your ass is safe tonight." He curled the lubed hand hard around Stiles's cock and started to stroke. He watched Stiles carefully, wanting to see his reactions. His own release was going to be the last thing to happen tonight, until then his pleasure was coming through how Stiles experienced all of this. 

Stiles panicked a bit at the sight of Derek being seemingly well prepared and it registered somewhere that he'd probably done this before. Well of course he had, he probably made a regular thing of it, taking some luckless prisoner home instead of to jail. When Derek pushed his thighs apart and picked up the lube, Stiles thought he knew what was coming and his rose bud clenched tightly shut. The slicked hand around his cock was a surprise and Derek's reiteration that his virgin ass was safe. Stiles gasped as strong fingers curled around his dick and began to stroke, his eyes widened and he arched slightly off the bed. "Fuck!" He breathed deeply.

"I take it you like that," Derek said with a little chuckle. He could almost taste Stiles's tension, and the sudden break in it as he arched up. Stiles was very responsive, and Derek really, really liked that. He meant it about not taking Stiles's ass. If Stiles didn't want it, it would be painful for him and no pleasure for himself. Derek was no Sadist. He liked the control, he loved making someone squirm and moan in pleasure, he loved if not exactly willing at least cooperative partners. He leaned down a little bit and licked his broad tongue across the head of Stiles's cock, lightly teasing over the slit. 

Stiles's toes curled and he nodded in response, he felt his dick twitch and fill with blood, hardening in Derek's hand as he stroked. Stiles had learnt long ago that his dick had a mind of its own and did exactly as it liked, he had very little say in the matter. Not that, that was an actual problem, his dick was usually right and his brain took the night off on such occasions as it did when Derek suddenly swiped his tongue over the purple head. Stiles saw stars, he made a noise he couldn't recall making before and his hips pushed his dick forward into Derek's mouth.

Derek pulled his head back. "Mmm, see what I mean, young men are so eager." His tone was light and teasing. He grabbed one of the dental dams and worked it properly in place in his mouth. He was pretty sure the young man was inexperienced but he didn't take chances on 'pretty sure' and body fluids, no matter how sexy Stiles looked writhing in the restraints. He lowered his head again, taking Stiles's cock into his mouth, tongue working against the shaft from underneath the latex of the dental dam. His hand was still curled around his member, stroking the portion not in Derek's mouth. He began to suck in his cheeks and then slowly bob and lick, taking his time. 

"Fuck, fuck fuck!" Stiles breathed a litany of expletives as Derek lowered his mouth around his engorged dick and he tugged on the restraints wanting to hold onto Derek and keep his head just _there_. Derek worked his tongue against the thick vein throbbing along the underside and sucked with hollowed cheeks. Stiles panted and writhed in frustration he raised his hips only to have them forced down and he rolled his head against the pillow. Any concerns about the situation he was in disappeared and were replaced with a raw need to hurtle headlong into a chasm of completion. "Gahh.... Oh God, please, please do that again," he whimpered as Derek swiped his tongue over the throbbing, sensitive head.

Derek drank in the expletives and the little motions and the pleading. This is what made him hard, made him hungry. Feeling Stiles's need and his pleasure. He lifted up his head enough to look into Stiles's eyes. He flicked his tongue over the head again, then swirled it slowly around the edge, then back over the head again. 

Stiles's eyes were black with lust and his chest heaved, beads of sweat peppered his brow and his face was red and sweaty. A soft mist of perspiration covered his body. He tossed his head and cursed as Derek teased him, keeping him balanced on the edge. Lost to coherent thought and not yet tumbled over into the oblivion of orgasm. He balanced there, frustration forcing a sob from his throat begging, pleading for Derek to push him over the edge and send him tumbling down. Every nerve ending sizzled, lust like a snake writhed in his belly and Stiles writhed with it, pinned and held there like some tortured butterfly.

Derek lifted his head, hand curled around Stiles's cock and now jerked hard, working to bring Stiles to climax. He wanted to see him, to watch his face as he came. Stiles was already beautiful, almost completely possessed by desire, and Derek was eager to see him blossom. 

It didn't take long. Derek's intent changed from teasing to serious and he tugged and pulled Stiles's tortured cock. Stiles felt his stomach muscles tighten and twitch, his aching balls drew up and a swipe with Derek's thumb over the head of his cock and his dick jerked. Stiles's body seemed to spasm, he grimaced and cried out as his dick began to cough out wads of thick, sticky cum, it splashed and splattered hotly over Derek's hand and his own stomach.

Derek watched every sweet moment of it, watching Stiles writhe and buck, watching the expression of bliss as he climaxed. He kept stroking gently, letting Stiles's body completely work through the orgasm, before he stopped and pulled his hand away. He leaned in and kissed Stiles gently, then pulled back, got wet naps, and started to clean Stiles's belly and his own hand. He tossed the wipes into the trash with the dental dam and then undid the wrist restraints. He caressed Stiles wrists, kissed the insides of each one on the pulse point. "Did you like it?" He asked. 

Stiles heard his voice distantly, through the haze of orgasmic bliss. "Hell yeah." He breathed softly.

Derek smiled. His own cock was still hard but it wasn't time to do anything about it yet. He got up again, getting a bottle of massage oil from the bedside table. "Roll over," he said. "Gonna give you a massage." He knew it would give Stiles time to recover and get them both oiled and ready for the next thing he had in mind. 

Stiles watched Derek move, his tumescent cock jutted out and bobbed from a nest of dark curls. He hadn't cum, but didn't seem overly concerned about it. Stiles would have been a lot more reluctant to turn over if Derek hadn't promised that his ass was safe. He flipped over and settled his chin on his crossed arms.

Derek poured some oil into one hand, and cupped his other hand over it, letting it warm. He drizzled a bit of it over Stiles's back, then started to spread it over all over his back. He moved to straddle Stiles then, his own cock resting comfortably against the upper curves of Stiles's ass as he leaned forward to start rubbing and massaging Stiles's shoulders and neck. Strong fingers kneaded taut muscles and Stiles relaxed as Derek worked. He drifted in a haze enjoying the sensation of Derek's hands sliding over his slick skin and became lethargic. He was pulled sharply back into the present as Derek's powerful fingers pressed deeply and worked a knotted muscle in his shoulder and he felt his cock sliding, gliding against the curves of his ass. A small shiver of excitement passed through him and he moaned softly.

Derek, for his own part, was enjoying the contact of the massage. He was good at giving them, he'd gone to the trouble of taking classes to improve his technique. He slid his hands down lower, to work on Stiles's lower back, and naturally slid back a bit so his cock moved further down the crack of Stiles's ass. It was just casual contact, but it felt good, and Derek let out a small groan. He drizzled a bit more massage oil on Stiles's spine, and of course some of it was taken by gravity down between Stiles's ass cheeks. Derek still wasn't going to take Stiles's ass but this teasing closeness was oh-so-sweet. His hands worked firmly on Stiles's lower back. "Ever had a massage before?" He asked, wanting to make sure Stiles didn't drift off during this first stage.

Derek shifted and Stiles felt his cock slide lower and heard Derek's groan. The oil slid between his cheeks and he squirmed a little as it coursed down and his mind stirred was it an unintentional, casual act? Or was there more purpose behind it? Was Derek going to keep his word? The question caught him off guard. "No, " he answered truthfully, "never before."

Derek slid off Stiles and playfully, gently tapped his ass. "Back's done. Turn over."

Derek's sudden absence caused Stiles to groan a little,he was enjoying the massage and he levered up on his hands and looked at him and then turned over.

Derek moved over between Stiles's legs, kneeling, and took one of Stiles's feet in his hands, causing Stiles to have to bend his knee a bit. He used a bit more oil and started massaging the foot, working the pressure points, and then up the leg to the calf. He took his time and then started on the other foot. Of course, the position forced Stiles to stay on his back and spread for Derek. It was just a subtle bit of control and power even as he was making Stiles feel good and relaxed. 

Stiles never realized how sensitive his feet were or that they could be erogenous zones. He floated on a cloud of bliss as Derek worked his pressure points and slacked and relaxed each toe. The position caused his legs to bend at the knee and flop open, spreading himself shamelessly before Derek, but he didn't care. His brain had long ago given up coherent thought or trying to process the situation he was in. His defenses were xero and his brain too busy trying to process each new sensation, he heard and distant groan and realized it was him.

Derek finished with the feet and calves and scooted in closer. Now more oil on his hands, and those hands went for Stiles's inner thighs. Time to go from relaxed to aroused. A young man like Stiles should have had plenty of recovery time by now and Derek was still hard and so ready. His hands worked in long strokes along his thighs at first, then deft fingers teased at the delicate inner thighs. His fingers brushed against Stiles's sensitive scrotum without quite lingering there. 

Stiles gasped as the serpent of desire awoke within him and slithered through his body, snaking, coiling, striking at his nerves so that they tingled and sparked. He hissed as he felt Derek's fingers brush his sac and unconsciously he widened his legs, blood rushed in a throbbing tide to his cock, it swelled, grew and hardened. Lust lanced through him with the recent memory of his last orgasm and he chased after that memory helter skelter in a headlong rush..

Derek let out his own little moan as he saw Stiles harden. He poured more oil on Stiles's belly and onto his own hand. He started to slick his cock, and Stiles's cock, just a light coating before he moved to lay on top of Stiles, pressing their bodies together. Their cocks met, warmed and oiled between their bellies. Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles, under his shoulders, holding them close, and started to grind against the young man underneath him. It was sheer heaven, the sweet contact of body on body, their hard shafts sliding against each other. Derek was pent up and had been controlling himself, now he was letting himself relax into the sheer animal sensual pleasure. He kissed Stiles's neck and nipped it lightly. He felt almost feral now, it was  
like uncaging the beast inside him for just a moment. 

Stiles was pinned and possessed, pushed down into the bed by the man on top of him and he whimpered at the feel of his skin between Derek's teeth and strong arms enfolding him. Stiles had never felt so exposed and yet so safe. His hands came up and fluttered, looking for purchase and they slid down to the globes of Derek's ass and rested there, holding, kneading gently and moving with the flex and ripple of Derek's muscles. His cock slid and pulled beside Derek's and dribbled a steady flow of pre-cum. Derek ground down and he arched up into the blissful heat and contact. He groaned and whined, his legs opened searching for more contact and his mind reeled on a fog of want and need. "Oh fuck! God yes," he breathed out.

Derek moaned at the feel of Stiles's hands on his ass. It was the first contact he'd made on his own, and it flipped a little switch inside Derek. This felt more real to him than anything he'd done in a long while. He felt suddenly and oddly possessive of Stiles, and he nipped his neck again harder as he writhed and rocked against his body. He knew he wasn't going to last long, not after the tease this whole night had been. "Oh, fuck, yes, oh god, coming!" he howled, and his belly tightened as the bliss shot through his brain, down his spine, and he came. He shot hot ropes of seed between their bellies. 

This nip was harder than Derek intended and elicited a small yip from Stiles as Derek ground and ground harder, faster against him. Reflexively his fingers tightened on Derek's ass and his whole body rose in goose bumps and the tiny hairs on his skin stood on end as static electricity seemed to envelop him. He shuddered as Derek howled out his orgasm and the serpent slithered coldly down his spine and sank its fangs in his full and throbbing balls and he came, his orgasm literally pulled from him by Derek's. His cry was mingled with Derek's howl of release and his spunk, thick and opalescent splashed and mixed with Derek's.

Derek collapsed against Stiles, letting himself rest only a moment before pushing up onto his forearms so as not to put too much weight on the slender boy. There was the bliss enveloping them both, and he could feel it. He shifted so he was beside Stiles and stroked his chest as they both slowly recovered from the climax. "When you can stand, we'll go shower," he said. "Then bed." He didn't mention tomorrow. He was going to be more than a little reluctant to drop off the young man. For now he just concentrated on the feel of his skin under his hand.


	4. Chapter 4

Derek awoke in the morning with Stiles curled in tight against his body. He had to smile. He couldn't remember the last time he'd actually had someone stay the night. He looked over at a sleeping boy. He looked even younger in repose, and his body was snuggled against Derek's, for warmth maybe. Derek kept it on the cool side, he liked to sleep in comfort and Los Angeles could be so damn hot and humid. He glanced at the clock. Damn, no more time to dally. He needed to get up and moving, had to get ready, and had to drop Stiles back home. He reached over and shook Stiles's shoulder with his broad hand. "Come on, Sleeping Beauty, time to wake up." 

For Stiles the warmth and comfort of the bed was pure luxury, the heating in his squalid apartment was ancient and he didn't dare use it much because he couldn't pay the bills. The bedding felt constantly damp and a musty smell refused to leave, even if he opened the window. Curling against Derek had given him the extra warmth and security of another person. He jerked awake and blinked, at first confused as to where he was and then the memory of the previous night's events swept over him and he felt a shiver of arousal pass through his body. He uncurled and stretched his legs languidly.

"Come on, time to get moving. I'll go get started on breakfast. If you want another shower before you go, better get started now." Derek's half-smile softened the crispness of his words, and he stroked his hand casually on Stiles's back before he regretfully got out of bed, pulling on his discarded sweat pants and padding off towards the kitchen. 

Stiles was rather disappointed in Derek's business-like attitude. Then reality crashed in around him, Derek had done with him now he wanted him gone. He ought to be relieved really he could go back to his life, pick up exactly where he left off... _Yeah like that was such a big deal._ He'd be sleeping under a bridge or in a doorway or back alley before the week was done he thought ruefully, all the more reason to take Derek up on his offer of a shower. He watched the cop pad off. "Good morning to you to," he muttered under his breath and swung his naked form from the bed, stood did a full body stretch, scratched his ass and padded to the bathroom taking his own sweat pants with him.

Derek headed off to the kitchen. He had a morning routine, quick and efficient. He needed it, with the late nights he kept. He went over to the little rice steamer he never used for rice, and dumped in some oatmeal, water, and some almond milk, covered it, and turned it on. There, he could get to work on the rest of it. He lifted Stiles's clothes from the dryer, took them into the bedroom and laid them out on the bed. He'd showered the night before, and if he needed a refresher later there was always one at the station house. So he went to the closet, pulled out a fresh suit and shirt and started to get dressed. It was a ritual, like putting on armor. The suit, the tie, the cufflinks, the bling, everything just so. He hated being dressed like this, he was a jeans and Henley, wife beater or tee shirt man but the job of vice detective meant he had to dress a certain way, unless he was undercover or on a stakeout. 

Stiles didn't waste time in the shower, experience had taught him to be quick. There was seldom more than luke warm water at the apartment and that had a habit of running out quickly and he wasn't to know that Derek's shower provided hot water on demand and for as long as it was needed. He showered in under three minutes, toweled himself off, pulled on the sweat pants and padded toward the bedroom. He stopped short in the doorway at the sight of Derek dressing, the broad back with strange spiral tattoo and rippling muscles that flexed as he moved, the expensive dark suit, the gold cufflinks that looked real, he hesitated his eyes drifting down to his own ratty jeans, thin tee shirt and hoodie laid on the bed, all from the thrift shop. His eyes swept appreciatively over Derek and then he moved forward to the bed. "I guess I'd better dress, nice suit by the way," he added casually eyes flickering to the cop and then darting away.

"Thanks. Vice, you know, gotta keep up appearances. Sorry for the rush but work starts early." Derek looked over at the half-naked Stiles, hair damp from the shower, and really, really wished he didn't have to be into work so early. What he wanted was to bend Stiles over the bed and...he stepped firmly on the brakes on that train of thought. 

"Vice?" Stiles felt a cold hand touch him and he shivered. "You must work long hours," he slipped out of the sweat pants and pulled on his clean boxers, "see a lot of things......." He squirmed into his jeans, left them open and pulled his tee over his head tucked it into his jeans and pulled up the zip and fastened the top button. He sat on the bed to put on his socks.

"Yeah. It's the pits, really. Trying to work my way onto Homicide or a Major Case." Derek had just finished adjusting his tie when he heard a small ding from the kitchen. "Ah, the oatmeal is ready. Come on in the kitchen when you're dressed, I'll dish it up." Derek headed into the kitchen, turned the rice steamer to warm, got down bowls and some palm sugar. He dished up the oatmeal into the bowls, and carried it all over to the little round table he had in the kitchen with a couple of wooden dining chairs pulled up to it. "What do you want to drink? Juice, almond milk, tea or water? I'm out of coffee," he shouted.

Stiles bent over and fastened the laces of his sneakers, he raised his head at Derek's shout. "Juice please," he called back, picked up his hoodie and made his way to the kitchen. It was a surprisingly large and airy room, a stove, imitation granite counter with a couple of bar - type stools pulled up, cupboards, tall matching fridge and separate freezer, sink and twin steel drainers, pots and pans hung neatly on the wall, a stack of cook books near the stove, a combination microwave and a small table and a couple of chairs.The smell of oatmeal reminded him of when he was a kid and his mother was still alive, is nose twitched. He put his hoodie over the back of a chair and sat down. He hadn't really taken a lot in the night before, the apartment was nice, well furnished but nothing too _fancy_ , functional, homely, nothing to make him feel uncomfortable and afraid to sit down and plenty large enough for more than one. He picked up his spoon, took a helping of oatmeal and blew on it. "You have a nice _roomy_ apartment."

Derek had sat down and poured them both some juice, spooned some palm sugar on his oatmeal and was digging in. "Thanks," he said between bites. He glanced over at Stiles. He really hated the idea of just dumping him back on the streets. His brow furrowed a bit as he tried to think of some place he could take him that would help. 

Stiles swallowed his oatmeal, it was good and he took another spoonful. "This is good," he gestured with his spoon. "So you live here alone? Must get lonely."

"It's the organic rolled oats. I eat crap all day, I make sure I get some decent breakfast. And yeah, sometimes." Derek sighed a little. He wasn't even quite sure why he answered that way. He wasn't in the habit of divulging his inner thoughts to strangers, to anyone really. 

Stiles noted the sigh. It was partly small talk, mostly not. A kernel of an idea sparked in Stiles's brain, but it needed careful handling. "Yeah, me too, although I guess that won't be a problem for much longer there's plenty like me sleeping rough." He hated how _needy_ and pathetic he sounded.

Derek frowned. "Maybe I could help you find some sort of temporary housing, a shelter." 

"I tried before, those places have waiting lists a mile long." Stiles took a swig of his juice and looked at Derek with a shrug, "and they take the younger kids first."

" How old are you?"

"I was eighteen a couple of months ago."

Seemed about right although he looked younger. "Damn. Has to be something." Derek kept eating his oatmeal, brow still knitted up as he tried to think of some way to help Stiles. 

"I guess there are lots of kids like me, some worse off." Stiles finished up his oatmeal. "Anyway, not your problem," he added with a tired sigh, "thanks for the food and washing my clothes and stuff and letting me stay the night." Stiles glanced at Derek, it was a long shot, there was no reason _why_ Derek should agree or even consider it and Stiles wouldn't normally dream of asking but he was out of options. If he took to the streets, it was a downward spiral. He'd be lucky if he survived a week without being rolled for what little he had, even killed. And if he did survive he was likely to fall into the hands of some pimp and end up selling his ass to exist, hooked on drugs like as not and taking his chance with disease. "Look, " he leaned forward, "I wouldn't ask but I'm desperate and you seem a pretty decent sort of guy, kinky but decent.This place is big enough for two, I can't pay rent," he chewed his bottom lip, "but I could do things, clean, cook, be here when you got home." He paused. " _Other_ things." He looked at Derek hopefully.

Okay, that stopped Derek mid-bite and he swallowed a mouthful of oatmeal with a gulp. Not to mention what that little proposition did for his naughty parts. Then he let his brain work on it. Stiles was essentially offering to be a his boy for room and board. It was potentially a helluva deal, but could he trust leaving Stiles here alone in his apartment? He didn't have a lot, he didn't _need_ a lot and he didn't keep much cash there and his bank and credit cards he kept with him, but the TV, music center, games console, ipod dock, laptop and such like were top of the range and valuable to someone like Stiles on the street. It was something he'd have to work on in his head, check him out and not something he could decide there and then. He kept his face an unfathomable mask. He liked the kid, found him appealing and sexy in a way he hadn't anyone else in a long time and he was just the sort he would choose for himself. "That's a _very_ tempting proposition." He frowned slightly. "How about you come to work with me today? It'll be boring but you'll be safe and it'll give me time to chew this deal this over." 

Stiles's eyes lit up, he didn't honestly believe Derek would give it a second's thought. Derek didn't know him, leaving him alone in the apartment all day would be risky he might ransack the place and disappear, of course he _wouldn't_. Apart from the fact he was _basically_ honest only bending the law when he _had_ to, he was no fool and wasn't about to bite the hand feeding him. His eyes widened and he gave a shudder of excitement. "Come with you? Are you serious? I mean that'd be great," Stiles enthused.

Derek nodded. "Finish up and we can get going." Oh hell, this was gonna be interesting explaining Stiles to Chris, quite apart from keeping his partner's hands off him...


	5. Chapter 5

Derek arrived at the station with Stiles in tow. They were walking through the parking garage together. "So, you're going to probably end up at the station by yourself a bit today while I'm out with my partner, working cases. I might get Lydia in forensics to watch after you, she'll keep you out of trouble." Derek flashed a grin. "And don't be too surprised at how my partner Chris behaves, he and I have a lot in common."

Chris lounged back in the chair and balanced it on two legs, his feet up on Derek's desk while he concentrated on folding the piece of paper with his slim fingers into a horse, only it didn't work out, never did. He was perhaps ten or fifteen years older than Derek, ruggedly handsome with light brown hair a few wisps gray showing at the sides, a short, neat, salt and pepper beard and moustache. He was slender and toned, poured into a well-cut grey suit, pale blue shirt and dark blue tie, slightly shorter in height than Derek. Origami wasn't his strong point. He tossed the paper onto the desk and glanced at his watch, Derek was late, that was unusual for such a control freak. There was a commotion at the other end of the room, wolf whistles, Chris looked up and his steely blue eyes narrowed. It was Derek and he had a kid in tow, damn had he already picked someone up? The legs of the chair landed on the floor with a thump and Chris looked at his partner curiously and then scanned the boy.

Derek took the whistles and ribbing in good humor, he only hoped Stiles would handle it the same. "All right, all right, settle down, he's not a collar, he's visiting, back off," he said, and pushed through with Stiles to his desk. He looked over at Chris, and could almost hear the gears spinning in his head. "Chris, this is Stiles. Stiles, this is Chris Argent, my partner. Chris, Stiles's a young man in need of help. He's here today while I try to figure out how to help him out." He hoped Chris would pick up on the hints but with Chris there was honestly no telling. 

Chris processed what Derek was saying, they weren't a fucking charity so Derek was up to something, something he didn't want the kid to cotton onto. He raked his eyes over Stiles, young, pretty, too clean to be living on the streets but thin. His clothes were clean, but worn, too big, second or third hand... Conclusion .. He'd spent the night with Derek and he'd let him bathe and wash his clothes, not unusual behavior for either of them. What _was_ unusual was Derek bringing the kid to work and all the bull about _helping_ him. He pushed out his hand. "Hi Stiles."

Derek relaxed a little as Chris greeted Stiles. His arm moved protectively around Stiles's waist, his hand settling on Stiles's hip, making his claim on the boy clear. He had a lot to talk about with Chris once they got out of the station house. Chris was far more hardcore than he was and no doubt he'd have some ideas and tips on how to handle the boy. 

Chris watched Derek's move as Stiles shook his hand. It was meant to be seen, he was sure of that. Derek was staking his claim on the boy, loud and clear. The corners of Chris's mouth twitched slightly, it didn't matter much Derek had a poor track record with relationships and a tendency to tire of people quickly and then he didn't mind if he had a crack at them and he'd certainly like a go at Stiles.

"Let me go see if Lydia can keep an eye on him,"Derek said, "I know we have some more work to do on that kiddy porn thing." They had been working on breaking a distribution center for child porn. It was a big case, something more serious than their usual jobs of busting prostitutes and johns and shutting down 'massage parlors'. 

Chris nodded. He might not be above breaking a few rules and spending the night with prostitutes and young men like Stiles instead of arresting them, but children and underage were a different matter. That was something he and Derek agreed on, they agreed on most things actually. "Good idea, Lydia'll keep him out of trouble. Nice to meet you Stiles." He nodded and gave a wolfish smile.

Derek saw the smile. God but Chris was predictable. He'd probably make a move on Stiles and honestly it wasn't for Derek to stop it, but he found himself feeling a lot more possessive than he expected. He moved Stiles out of the squad room and down in the elevator to forensics. Several techs greeted them as they moved through the section, back to the ballistics lab. Derek tapped on the door, and a feminine voice answered, "Come in." 

Derek opened the door, and inside was a pretty, slender girl with long strawberry blonde hair and big hazel eyes. She was in a labcoat, designer jeans, and T-shirt. She grinned and came over to hug Derek. "Derek! Haven't seen you in a while. Who's your friend?" She looked over at Stiles. 

Stiles was pulled back into the present. He was floundering a bit, he felt like a fish out of water surrounded by all the cops, his experience with cops wasn't good. And Chris, Chris he understood, cops like Chris he'd met before. Cops that raked their eyes over him, that lingered a little too long over pat downs, that were a little too _hands on_ , who made suggestive remarks and smiled the same way. Oh yeah, he had Chris's number. He startled a little as he was introduced to the young woman. She was _Lydia_? She looked nice, big eyes and a kind face, pretty. He smiled.

Lydia shook Stiles hand. She took him in, she could tell he was young and a bit nervous. "Sure, Derek. He can help me with the ballistics gel molds. I'm needing to make a bunch for some comparative tests." 

Derek sighed in relief. "Thanks Lydia." He pulled out his wallet and handed Lydia a $10 bill. "For his lunch, in case Chris and I aren't back." 

Lydia took the money. "Okay, Derek, I understand, growing boy and all." She giggled. She turned to Stiles. "You okay with doing some lifting and stuff?"

Derek had to grin back. Lydia was sweet and he'd always treated her like a little sister. "Lydia, this is Stiles Stilinski. Stiles this is Lydia Martin. You mind her now and don't give her any lip." He warned although he knew it probably wasn't necessary. 

Stiles smile broadened and he nodded. He'd been a bit embarrassed, his clothes were clean but they were a bit shabby but Lydia didn't seem to notice or she didn't care and Derek had taken care of his lunch. "I'm ok with lifting, I can do that." He glanced at Derek his eyes expressing his thanks. 

Derek smiled back at Stiles, and hugged Lydia again. "Okay, Lydia, gotta get going. Have fun with your gel." "I will," Lydia replied. "Don't get shot, I don't want to do ballistics on your bullet." She giggled, it was a bit of an old joke with them, and Derek chuckled in response. "Okay, Stiles, come on through the back with me, we need to mix some gel. It's fun, kinda like playing with mud." Lydia herded Stiles deeper into the lab while Derek headed back upstairs to Chris.

Stiles looked around as he followed Lydia, there were a number of white coated men and women engaged in various tasks, but apart from the odd curious glance, no-one took a great deal of notice of him. "You didn't mean it about Derek getting shot?" He asked surprised that the thought disturbed him.

"No," Lydia replied brightly. "It's just our little joke." They went to another section of the lab, one that looked like a warehouse room. "Ok, let's get mixing!" She started pulling out the powder for ballistics gel. "Help me with these bags." 

Stiles grasped a number of the heavy bags and hefted them out. "What does the gel do?" He asked curiously.

"It's just something we use to fire bullets into for ballistics tests," Lydia said. "it'll stop a bullet eventually, it has about the same give as human flesh, and it's easy to dig something out of." She recited the facts chirpily and cheerily, with a smile on her face. 

"Ok, cool." Stiles nodded.

Chris raised his head from checking his gun as he saw the familiar dark figure weave his way with a graceful sway of his hips through the desks, coming toward him. He waited until Derek was almost up to him and took a quick look around to see no-one was paying them any attention and kept his voice low. "What the fuck's going on with the kid?"

Derek sighed. It took less time than he thought for Chris to peg him on this. "Listen, grab us both a coffee and give me ten to look up his record on the computer, I'll explain when we get out to the car."

Derek watched as Chris retreated across the room weaving in out of the desks and cubicles, stopping to exchange banter with the other detectives and then homing in on the ever popular coffee machine. He sat at his desk and logged on, his fingers skimming over the keys as he entered his password and pulled up Stiles file. It wasn't that he didn't believe the boy but it was always wise to check and he had the feeling Stiles had omitted some details. 

It was all there more or less as Stiles had told him. He was just turned eighteen, the only son of John and Claudia Stilinski and his mom had died when he was nine. From there Stiles was constantly in and out of trouble with school and the law. He had a string of warnings for misdemeanors, petty crimes, mostly shoplifting, minor vandalism and causing a nuisance, like letting down the tires on the car of a teacher he didn't like and calling out the fire fighters just to see the engines, nothing violent. He was picked up several times between fourteen and seventeen for possession of Marijuana and a small amount of crack Cocaine. He was finally sentenced to six months in Beacon Hills Juvenile Correction Center for dealing in Pot, just as he said. A psych evaluation said he had low self esteem, was easily led and lacked self-confidence. He also suffered from unmediated ADHD and although bright this had probably led to his poor academic performance and behavioral issues.

He'd been placed on a regimen of low dosage Adderall and there had been a marked improvement in his behavior, concentration and attitude while he was at the center. But Adderall was expensive and Derek doubted the boy had medical insurance or could pay for his prescriptions once he was released. Perhaps that was something he could take care of? There was evidence to support parental physical and emotional abuse, but thankfully not sexual. That explained his flinching away from Derek and he imagined it wasn't easy raising a boy with ADHD alone and his overwrought father had resorted to physical punishment to control him. Or perhaps he was just a bastard who enjoyed hitting his son. He closed down the page and logged off as Chris handed him a mug of coffee. Derek reached for it and curled is fingers around the mug and lifted it from Chris's hand. "Thanks." He threaded his fingers through the handle and lifted the mug to his mouth taking along chug of the dark,warm liquid.

Chris held his mug with both hands, his hip against the corner of Derek's desk and studied his partner and friend through narrowed eyes. "Sooo, find out what you wanted to know about the boy?" He asked casually, taking a swig from his mug.

"More or less what Stiles told me," Derek drained half his mug and set it down on the desk and looked around warily. "Let's get outside into the car, we can talk there." He pushed to his feet and Chris put his mug beside Derek's and fell in beside him as they walked outside and got into their unmarked car. Derek could feel Chris fairly fit to burst by the time they got in there. "Kid tried to hold me up last night. Lucky for him he only had a sex toy in his pocket and it was me and not some gang-banger. I took him home instead of hauling him in here, and now he..." Derek inhaled deeply, "he's proposed being my boy." 

Chris threw back his head and howled with laugher. "He what!" He spluttered and looked at Derek wide-eyed. "He tried to hold you up with _a sex toy_?" He burst out laughing again. "Only you Derek,it could only happen to you. Did you fuck him?" He vibrated with pent up curiosity. "Must have been some fuck for the kid to want to stay with you." He saw the serious look on Derek's face. "Oh please, tell me you're _not_ really considering it?"

Derek crossed his arms. "Yes, and Yes. I fucked him, and yes I'm considering it. He's offering to clean, cook, and fuck for room and board. Tell me you wouldn't think about it." Derek raised a knowing eyebrow and looked steadily back at Chris. 

Chris chuckled, "Death by dildo," he muttered and chuckled again and then looked at Derek and sobered. "You're serious?" He took in the raised eyebrow and shrugged."Yeah, ok I'll admit kid's a looker and he doesn't seem as though he's been used much. I can see the attraction a bit like having a slave without the hassle and kinky sex on tap and it's not as if he's going to complain with what you've got on him." He looked thoughtful. "Yeah, I would consider it."

Derek hadn't actually hooked up the word _slave_ with Stiles's offer but he had to stamp that line of thought down quickly. He'd let himself think about it later tonight, when he had Stiles all alone. "So the question is will you help me out with this? I need a way to monitor him. I was thinking those nannycams like the ones we saw at that one house. Remember the paranoid rich guy who had his mistress all wired up with cameras?" 

Chris nodded. "That's a good idea, no telling what he'll get up to left alone in your apartment, he could turn you over, take everything he can sell and split. You'd have a hard time explaining how he got there." He studied Derek a moment, he was good friend and they'd been partners for nearly four years and there was no question that he'd help Derek with this, besides maybe Derek would let him take a crack at the kid? "Sure Derek I'd be glad to lend a hand."

"Knew I could count on you Chris. We can pick up the cams while we're out today. I'll take him out to dinner after work and you can go put them in. Work for you? Then maybe we can figure on getting you a boy too." Derek flashed a wicked grin knowing Chris had his eye on a pretty piece of ass called Issac they kept picking up. And Chris took home.

Chris grinned back. "Sure that works for me. Dunno about a boy, I like to play the field and a permanent house guest might cramp my style." His brow furrowed. Have you thought about that, Derek?"

Derek sighed. "Yeah, I considered it. But he's young and I bet he won't stick around for long. If he does, I might actually get a chance to do some of that wicked stuff we see in slave movies, maybe build him a little cell to lock him in when I have company." Derek chuckled at that even while the thought had him seriously hot. Another thing to stamp down 'til later. 

Chris gave a slow, knowing smile. "He might not stick, but right now he has nowhere to go and he's young enough to be _pliable_. Just need to find out what triggers his behaviors, no need to be heavy handed. I'd be interested to see how he works out."

"Chris, you have a truly wicked mind." Derek chuckled. "Good thing we're partners, otherwise we'd have to hide all this perversion away." 

Chris grinned. "What are partners for if not to share experiences."


	6. Chapter 6

Derek collected Sties from Lydia. She took him aside and said how hard Stiles had worked and how bright and interested he'd been,learning quickly and with great enthusiasm. He was pleased and reminded that the psych exam had said the boy was bright. He belonged in school not in some menial, dead end minimum wage job or worse, on the streets. Perhaps if things worked out he would get Stiles ADHD medication sorted out and see to his education.

After all a well educated boy would be a credit to him.

He ushered Stiles ahead of him into the little Italian restaurant. It'd been a long day at work, lots of shoe leather and gas expended running down leads on the kiddy porn ring and heaving around large bags of ballistic gel had expanded a lot of Stiles energy and he seemed calmer.

Derek had the next couple of days off, time to see how this _boy_ thing might work out. The truth was Derek wasn't good at relationships, he had trust, possessive and control issues. He was generally thought too controlling and possessive by his lovers, inclined to be morose, mercurial (which was a fancy way of saying he was a moody bastard), and somewhat antisocial. Then of course there was the fact that he was a kinky SOB. He didn't fully embrace BDSM as Chris did, the sadomasochist part didn't interest him. He liked bondage and discipline, domination and submission, anything which gave him control over others. Just thinking about it sent a pleasant thrill twisting through him, but he wasn't a Sadist and he didn't get off on another's pain per-se.

The restaurant was a favorite of his, a little family place located in a Victorian-style house. They were led back out on the porch to be seated at a little table there. Derek ordered for the both of them, antipasti, salad, the specialty pasta of the day for himself and fusilli quatro formaggia for Stiles. They brought out a bottle of chilled white wine to the table and two glasses. Derek poured some for himself and some for Stiles. "So, how were things with Lydia today?" He enquired casually.

Stiles watched Derek pour the wine and looked around nervously. He was hardly dressed for what he considered such a _fancy_ place, but Derek didn't seem to mind and no-one else was taking any notice, so he just shrugged. "Great," he enthused, "she was nice and it was fun mixing the gel stuff and I had pizza for lunch and french fries, she made me eat salad though," he added quickly with a grimace. He took a gulp of wine and spluttered a bit. Derek had to chuckle at that. "Good for Lydia. You need decent food and that's wine not soda, " he gestured towards Stiles glass, "drink it slowly." 

Stiles felt heat slide up his neck and burn in his cheeks as he gazed at Derek over the rim of his glass. He sipped the wine, which was nice, sweet.

The antipasti arrived, marinated vegetables, slices of provolone and fresh buffalo mozzarella, hot italian sausage, cold salami and pancetta, and leaves of butter lettuce. Derek picked up a lettuce leaf, putting some cheese, veggies, and a chunk of sausage in it, and wrapped it up, taking a bite. "Go ahead, help yourself. We can take any leftovers home." 

Stiles watched Derek and mirrored what he did. At home he avoided eating anything that was green or moved on its own. He took a bite and was surprised by how good it was and taking Derek at his word helped himself to more. He had read somewhere that people liked to talk about themselves and it was a good ploy on a _date_. This definitely wasn't a date, but he wanted to prove to Derek he'd be good company, so he cleared his throat. "Do you come here a lot?"

"Often enough. It's a little-family owned place. The vegetables, most of them, come from an organic garden out back." Derek settled back, taking his time to sip wine between bite of the antipasti. He could feel the sweet relaxation as the warmth of the wine began to hit. He looked over Stiles, let his gaze wander over him. He'd been thinking most of the day about Stiles and his proposition. He was rather looking forward to getting Stiles home but he was going to need to give Chris plenty of time to install the cameras. "They don't rush you on service, let you relax and enjoy your meal." 

Stiles got the hint and stopped chewing as if his life depended on it, nodded and took a sip of wine. "It's a nice place, very calming."He said studying Derek over the rim of his glass. The wine spread through his body and some of his tension and defenses ebbed away. He lowered his glass to the table and turned the tall stem of his wineglass round and around between his thumb and forefinger. "So that other cop... police officer," he corrected himself, "he's your partner, you work with him?"

Derek nodded. "Chris and I have been partners for almost four years. We get along pretty well."

Stiles nodded. "Four years?" Hell that was longer than most marriages lasted. "That's along time, you must know each other pretty well." 

"Well enough," Derek replied.

Stiles took another sip of wine and began to feel a little light headed he had to know,had Derek thought about his proposal? And had he come to a decision?" He lent forward a little and lowered his voice."Have you thought about what I said this morning?"

" Yes, I thought about this morning and quite a bit today." Derek let that sentence hang for a long moment, letting the tension build, enjoying watching Stiles squirm. "I'm going to give it a try." 

Stiles eyes lit up, he'd hoped but he never let himself seriously believe that Derek would take him up on his proposal. "You will?" He grinned. "But that's great! I promise you won't regret it and it's not like it's a long-term thing, I'll be out of your hair as soon as I get a decent job and can afford a place of my own." Stiles babbled excitedly. He sighed. "I'm really grateful."

Derek had to grin at Stiles enthusiasm. "Hope you're as grateful when I have you cleaning for me. Do we need to get your things?" There was a little thrill at that, a little possessiveness. He was going to have Stiles essentially in his power, and just the idea had him shifting a little, his cock semi-hard in his trousers. 

Stiles shifted a little uneasily, he wasn't sure he wanted Derek to see the squalid conditions of his existence, still there was no help for it. He didn't have much but he wanted to get his comic collection he'd brought from home and the few DVDs he had, even if he didn't have a player and his few decent clothes. "That would be great, I haven't got much, just a few clothes and odds and ends, only if I leave them they'll just go to the trash."

Derek nodded. "We'll get it after dinner then. So just relax, and we'll have a nice dinner." Derek's fingers toyed with the stem of his wineglass. He'd have to take it slow, dinner would take a couple of hours and he'd have time to metabolize a glass and be totally sober to drive. But he couldn't drink more than that. He went back to eating dinner. He continued with small talk with Stiles over dinner, asking about his day with Lydia, telling what he could about his own. They even finished dinner by splitting a plate of sinful cream puffs, a little celebration for him. He found that he enjoyed Stiles enthusiastic company, and it was more pleasant than he'd expected having someone young and talkative to share dinner with.

Stiles relaxed once his immediate future seemed sorted and he talked enthusiastically about his day with Lydia and listened carefully to what Derek told him about his day,which wasn't much. He loved the cream puffs and got cream smeared over his face, which made Derek chuckle, Stiles found it nice to see Derek relax and he had a blinding smile. The meal drew to a close and Derek asked for the check.

 

Derek paid, left a nice tip, and they took their bag of leftovers along. Derek had to get directions from Stiles to his apartment block. "Need me to come in?" He asked his eyes drifting over the semi derelict looking building. 

Stiles saw a get out and took it. "Nah you'd better wait here, make sure your car has four wheels when I come back."

 

Stiles slid out of the car and hurried into the apartment block.The elevator didn't work, it hadn't worked since Stiles had lived there but it didn't matter, he was only on the third floor. Stiles mounted the stairs, the walls were cracked and the paint peeling, that is where you could see it for the graffiti. He reached his floor, the corridor lit by a single, bare bulb. Music blared, a baby cried and in one of the apartments voices argued angrily. He unlocked his door and went in, switching on the light. A single, musty room with a tiny kitchen attached and a foldout bed, still out and unmade as he left it. Something moved in one dim corner, but he didn't investigate. It took him moments to pull out the large sports bag and put it on the bed. The comics were first, a pile about ten inches high, next a dozen DVDs, then his underwear, half a dozen boxers, socks, a couple of sleeveless vests, next three pairs of not too worn jeans and half a dozen tee shirts and two good shirts, one tie and two sweaters. His only coat and extra pair of sneakers. He picked up his old electric shaver, comb and toothbrush and pushed them down the side of the bag. They all fit and he zipped up the bag, took one last look around and went to the door, switched off the light and abandoned the room to the rat in the corner.

Derek waited for Stiles to come back down. He was starting to get nervous and tempted to go in after Stiles when the young man emerged from the apartments. He saw the bag, and lifted an elegant eyebrow and asked, "Is that it? Don't need to get anything else?" 

Stiles blinked at him a moment and then shook his head. "No, I got it all."

Derek nodded, not wanting to embarrass Stiles. "Ok, sling it in the back seat, let's get home." He'd taken the opportunity to call Chris and confirm he'd finished with the cameras. They were set, and Derek had even tested them by looking at the feed on his smart phone. 

Stiles tossed his bag onto the rear seat and slid into the Camaro beside Derek and fastened his seatbelt. This was going to be the start of a new life, new beginnings and opportunities and he relaxed back into the seat.

A short while later they were back at Derek's apartment. Once inside, Derek's little thoughts of the day were pressing at him, almost pulsing in his brain. But he pushed them down again, letting them simmer. "So," he said, his voice a little husky. "Let's talk about this _arrangement."_

Stiles perched on the edge of the sofa, his bag at his feet and hands in his lap and nodded. He'd have duties, there'd be rules he understood that, best get them sorted and out of the way. "Sure," he answered brightly,"shoot."

"I've got tomorrow off. So I'll show you how I like things cleaned and placed and how to do the laundry. You'll have free time to yourself after the duties are done so you can work on job hunting or whatever you like. Then there's the other part of the arrangement. You still sure you can handle it?" 

The _other_ part of the arrangement, Stiles hadn't forgotten, he'd just pushed it to one side. Could he handle it? Well it wasn't as if he had a lot of choice and Derek was handsome and had a killer body even if he was a little bit kinky but as far as he could judge, not violent. He found he liked him, was even attracted to him so it wasn't going to exactly be a hardship to have sex with him on a regular basis. "Yeah Stiles nodded, I can handle it."

Derek nodded. "Good." He could feel himself getting hard just thinking about this, having Stiles here at his beck and call. The power. The control. "If you decide you can't handle it, if things don't work out, you can always walk away." He had to admit that the thought of Stiles chained to the bed or locked in one of those cages like a dog crate when he wasn't at home had its appeal, but he stamped the idea down. That was more Chris's bag than his and _wrongful imprisonment_ didn't sit well with him. Derek wanted Stiles to stay because _he_ wanted to and that little statement put things squarely back on Stiles. He was _choosing_ to be there, to put himself under Derek's power. It was a subtle little thing, but an important one. 

It was true, anything he didn't like he could leave and he would, maybe. The trouble was if he left he'd be in exactly the same position, nowhere to live but the streets and the downward spiral and danger they held. Stiles wasn't stupid, he'd chosen this path, chosen Derek, he was the one who'd asked to stay and he was going to do his best not to cock things up. It wouldn't be forever,he'd look for a job and place to live, he just didn't have to be desperate about it. Stiles nodded."I can handle it," he said with more bravado and confidence than he felt.

Derek leaned in, cupping Stiles face and kissing him, no preamble, no warning. It was a passionate kiss. He'd been pushing down his arousal, his attraction, and his need all day and he wasn't in the mood to wait any longer.

Stiles was taken by surprise, the cop's lips pressed and moved against his own. The pressure increased and his eyes fluttered shut as with a small nip to his bottom lip Derek demanded entrance and Stiles gave it. Derek's tongue snaked into his mouth and inspected his fillings and then stroked his tonsils and Stiles felt desire unfurling within him and he made a soft sound as Derek asserted his dominance over him.

Derek moved in closer, pushing Stiles back against the sofa, twisting to pin Stiles under him. His hands moved to grip Stiles wrists, and all the while he kept kissing Stiles. He pressed their bodies together, let Stiles feel the hard bulge in his trousers. He finally broke the kiss. "Want you here. Now."

Four words and Stiles heart thumped, his head swam and held in Derek's grasp he was instantly hard. The raw need and want in Derek's voice and his hard cock pressed into his hip sent a thrill of excitement and fear coursing, crackling through him. God help him it felt good to be restrained and helpless and his legs fell open under their own volition and he rubbed against Derek's cock.

Derek released Stiles wrists, sitting up to pull off his suit jacket and starting to unbutton his shirt. He tossed them gently onto the chair next to the sofa, and then work on getting Stiles T-shirt off him. Stiles seemed eager enough and that was good. Derek wasn't a rapist, just addicted to the feel of power. And the feel of Stiles pinned under him on the couch was just so good. 

Watching Derek undress and the reveal of his muscled chest did nothing to calm Stiles ardor. He watched with a new hunger as Derek's muscles flexed and rippled under his tanned, silky skin and he eagerly raised his arms to enable Derek to pull off his T-shirt and then reached out to touch his chest with a thin mat of dark hair.

Derek covered Stiles hands with his own, then guided them down to his waist. "Take my belt off, then undo the zipper," Derek said firmly. Derek's own hands then moved to stroke over Stiles hairless chest and abs.

Stiles hesitated for only a moment and then snapped Derek's belt open and grasped his zipper, his finger's brushing the hard bulge of the cock pressing forward underneath. Tooth by tooth he lowered the zipper and his eyes drifted up too look in Derek's, what he saw there made his breath hitch and his chest tighten. _Lust_ , raw, hot, desire, pupils blown wide, nostrils flaring and chest rising and falling with deep breaths.

Derek groaned just a little as Stiles fingers brushed tantalizingly against him. He held Stiles eyes when he looked up, feeling the air crackle between them. The pulse in his neck pounded, and he was having to use every bit of self-control as he looked down on Stiles not to pounce like some wild animal. He stood and snaked the belt of out its loops fast enough to make a noise like a snake rasping over sand. He draped the belt across the back of the sofa. He had a use in mind for it, but first he had to get out of the rest of these clothes. He toed off his shoes and socks, then slid down his trousers and boxers, tossing them onto the couch. He was fully hard and needy. He grabbed the little tube of lube, the emergency one he kept in his jacket pocket, and set it on the sofa as well before he straddled Stiles again. He took the belt and looped it through the buckle, then leaned down to pin Stiles wrists again over his head, crossing them, pulling the belt over the crossed wrists and tightening it. He leaned in against Stiles, whispering in his ear, "You like that?" 

Stiles had been concentrating on Derek's hard cock, he hadn't taken a great deal notice of it the night before, but now he did. It was long and thick, longer than his and broader in girth and jutting out hard enough to pound nails from a nest of dark, wiry curls. The act of pulling his hands above his head drew his attention and the feel of the leather tightening on his wrists. Derek's breath, warm and damp puffed against the shell of his ear... Did he like it? From the bolt of desire that had his cock twitching against his zipper and making a damp patch at his crotch he liked it, he liked it a lot..... "I like it," he replied huskily.

Derek kissed Stiles again, a brief bruising kiss, before sliding down to undo Stiles jeans and pull them down and off, and the boxers right behind. He didn't give Stiles much time to think before almost bending him in half on the sofa. Derek slicked his cock, then pressed his slicked hand between Stiles thighs. He pushed in against Stiles, sliding his cock between Stiles now slicked thighs, the head of it rubbing against Stiles cock as it was trapped between them. He started to rock his hips, sliding back and forth between Stiles thighs, and groaning at the sweet sensation.

Stiles was trapped, bent in two between Derek and the sofa. Derek's slicked cock slid back and forth between his thighs and the head pressing, rubbing against his cock as Derek moved back and forth. Stiles whimpered, he groaned with each push and pull, he tightened his thighs and elicited a moan from Derek as he thrust and panted. Stiles raised up slightly,wanting more of the glorious contact, feeling the suppressed power in Derek's stokes, he moaned and mewled."Oh fuck, oh God yes." He tossed his head and arched up the air heavy and crackling with tension.

Derek panted himself, rolling his hips, moving in closer. His slicked hand pressed in closer and curled around the base of Stiles cock. He couldn't stroke much with the tight way their bodies fit together, but he wanted Stiles pleasure and he knew he wouldn't last long. He was too hot, too needy, and all this felt too damn good. He couldn't remember the last time it had been like this, so raw. 

Stiles gasped for breath, the feel of Derek's strong fingers curled around his throbbing dick was almost too much to bear. His skin crawled as nerves fired and twitched and sensations threatened to overwhelm him sending him plunging headlong into oblivion. He tried the thrust into Derek's hand, he sobbed in breath and whimpered and whined as Derek's hand moved pushing him, edging him near the edge of the cliff but not quite toppling him over. "Oh God, please Derek, please!" He sobbed out hoarsely. 

"Mmm please what?" Derek growled out, even as he knew. He stroked a bit more, as much as he could, even as he slammed against Stiles. He could feel the shot down his spine as he drew up, his climax howling out of him. "Oh fuck yes!" 

Derek howled out his pleasure, ropes of hot cum landed on Stiles belly and chest, spattered against his chin. Derek's fingers tightened convulsively around his cock and was enough to choke off Stiles own orgasm as this dick throbbed and his balls pulled up and pulsed painfully. "Please Derek, let me come...please!" Stiles whined between sobs of breath as a cold tingle raced down his Spine.

Derek lifted a bit, sat back on his heels, and his hand stroked hard and fast on Stiles cock. "Come for me, Stiles," Derek said huskily. The very fact that Stiles begged would've gotten Derek rock-hard again if he wasn't just spent. As it was, he drank it in like nectar as he kept stripping Stiles cock.

Whether it was Derek's huskily murmured words or his hand stripping his cock or a combination of both, Stiles came. He arched up, his body shook and jerked as his cock pulsed ribbons of cum from his slit. He sobbed out his orgasm as he spilt over Derek's hand and his spunk mingled with Derek's on his belly.

Derek moved to the side a bit, leaning down to kiss Stiles lips. Stiles had his first lesson, all pleasure came at his hands and only at his command. "So pretty when you come," Derek said. His hand stroked Stiles hair. "So pretty."


	7. Chapter 7

Stiles drifted slowly awake, he was warm and comfortable, the sheets felt clean and dry next to his bare skin and free from the usual musty odor. He was aware of being held, pinned really by strong arms around his body and a leg thrown carelessly over his, a column of hard flesh pressing into his hip. His eyes flickered open and he startled a little to find Derek's face so near to his own. Long, dark lashes rested in a crescent against tanned skin, almost a feminine feature in such a strongly masculine face. Sensuous lips and his muscled chest rising and falling deeply in an easy, relaxed rhythm as he slept. It was his chance to study this man who had come so unexpectedly into his life and altered so dramatically its direction, possibly forever.

What manner of man was he? Handsome, certainly, dominant definitely, kinky, well that went without saying, but what else? There was no indication yet that he was abusive, he'd tied his wrists but he hadn't hurt or humiliated him and God knows Stiles couldn't have stopped him. He made it clear he was free to go, so not a prisoner and he had avoided penetrating him, thoughtful then?........... It was unlikely he was a Sadist or maybe he didn't enjoy taking a partner that way? He most obviously got a kick out of _dominance_ and _control_ , he'd choked off, delayed his orgasm but then allowed it and enjoyed seeing him cum.... And try as he might Stiles couldn't deny he'd enjoyed it. He had snagged himself a strange, complex man.

Derek stirred slowly. It was a day off, a rare chance to sleep in. He had been more than ready to sleep after a long day, a good meal, fantastic sex, and a good hot shower. And as his brain lazily slipped into gear, he realized he had Stiles in close and tight. He found he liked it. He tightened his grip around Stiles slightly, hands sliding down to cup and stroke his bare ass. "Morning, sunshine," his voice rumbled in a seductive purr. 

Stiles made a soft sound in his throat as Derek's palms stroked his ass cheeks in a languid circular motion, round and around. It was a possessive move and yet Derek's hands felt good against his skin and nerve endings sparked to life and Stiles found himself pushing eagerly into his hands. "Good morning," he responded quietly, biting off a moan.

Derek kissed Stiles neck, sucking gently and raising his blood to the surface beneath his pale skin and finishing with a sharp, possessive nip. "Ready for breakfast? I'm hungry and I feel like an indulgence this morning. You like French toast?" 

Stiles nodded not entirely sure what French Toast was, but the truth was he was hungry and had learnt a long time ago to eat what he could get. "That sounds nice." He murmured wondering if Derek could be persuaded to kiss him again.

Disappointingly, Derek pushed up out of the bed, crossing to the dresser and getting out sweats, oblivious in an easy display of nudity, and why not? Stiles mouth went dry, Derek had a fabulous body, wide shoulders, muscled chest, unforgiving biceps and a broad back that tapered to a trim waist and slender hips, lean muscled thighs and buttocks, shapely legs. Not a spare ounce of fat on the man. The sweats were for himself and Derek tossed a pair to Stiles. "Come on then." Derek encouraged as he headed for the kitchen. 

Stiles caught the sweats and pulled them on before padding barefoot after Derek to the kitchen and looking around.

Derek was already pulling things out of the fridge and putting them on the table. He started mixing eggs and milk and cinnamon and vanilla and sugar in a shallow pan. He gestured to one of the barstools by the kitchen counter. "Settle down, watch and learn, shouldn't take long." He got out a loaf of challah bread which had been there a few days, perfect for the French toast treatment, and started slicing. "How hungry are you?" He asked casually casting a glance at Stiles over his shoulder.

Stiles slid his ass onto one of the stools and rested his elbows on the counter. Despite only being half dressed the apartment was warm and he didn't feel cold. His eyes flickered between Derek's face and watching what he was doing. "Umm, quite hungry," he answered almost apologetically.

Derek smiled. "Good." He started soaking the slices in the mixture. He flipped a switch on his stove, warming the griddle pan he left on there. He took a little butter and started it melting, then dropped the slices onto the griddle. "Grab us some plates from the cupboard," he gestured with his chin, "these won't take long. And get a couple of glasses and some orange juice from the fridge." He was subtlety introducing Stiles to the layout of the kitchen and how he liked things to be done.

Stiles looked around and saw the plates stacked neatly in the glass fronted cupboard, he opened it and took two out and set them down on the counter. He crossed to the fridge and took out a glass jug of chilled, freshly squeezed orange juice and carried it and set it next to the plates. He searched around for glasses, aware that Derek was watching him, found two tall tumblers and carried them and put them near the plates. He looked at Derek for approval.

Derek glanced up at Stiles as he moved quietly to do as Derek has asked. He smiled as Stiles set down the tumblers. "Good boy." Derek nodded and flipped the slices. "Now some butter and syrup, and we'll be all set." He watched as Stiles retrieved them from the fridge, and Derek served up slices onto the plates. He poured some juice for them both and set the dishes on the counter. He moved around to settle next to Stiles on another barstool. "So let me know how you like it," he said, as he spread a little butter on his slices and poured some syrup. 

Stiles watched and mirrored Derek, putting butter and syrup onto his toast and took a bite. The taste burst on his tongue and Stiles made a small moan of approval. "This is great!" Stiles said enthusiastically and took another large bite.

"Glad you like. If that's not enough I can make you some more." Derek was taking his time, savoring the bites. He watched Stiles eating, and he had to smile. Stiles was chomping away as if starved. It was his youth, as much as anything, young men his age were almost perpetually hungry. Derek liked seeing someone else enjoy his food. Privately, he enjoyed cooking and was rather proud it. 

Stiles waved his hand as he chomped. "This is great, fine, really." He spoke with his mouth full, cheeks puffed out making him look like a hamster as he tried to smile. He almost choked and had to take a swig of juice, it was chill and made his teeth ache he spluttered and ended up laughing, rocking on his stool. "Dude that's cold!"

Derek chuckled. "Slow down, don't want to have to Heimlich you." He reached a hand out to rub up and down Stiles back, without thinking about the gesture. Skin on skin and his hand tingled pleasantly.

Stiles was surprised by the concerned gesture and smiled shyly. "Thanks," he mumbled feeling vulnerable.

Derek smiled and kept stroking, caressing Stiles back for a few minutes, enjoying the spontaneous contact before taking his hand back. "You'll need you energy for today. I'm going to show you how I like things cleaned and how to do the laundry properly and fold it." He looked Stiles over. "What types of jobs are you going to apply for?" 

Stiles shrugged. It wasn't like he was spoilt for choice, his spell in juvie had put an end to his High School education, so that left menial and laboring jobs. He had hoped to get work on a construction sites, the work was hard, heavy but the money wasn't bad but he knew he was still too young to apply. "Not a lot of choice. Didn't finish High School so dishwashing and slinging burgers is about the best I can hope for. I'm too young to tend bar or work in construction. Trouble is this town is full of kids like me, all chasing what few jobs there are."

"Hmmm, pretty much what I thought. We're going to get you an interview outfit, something casual but a little dressy, like chinos and a nice shirt and some loafers. It'll make you look less like a desperate kid. Can probably do some more to help you out later but we'll start with the outfit. We can do that later, on the way to dinner." Derek was already spinning out some plans in his head to help Stiles out. Eventually if things panned out, he'd suggest Stiles pick up his education, supporting him would be no problem.

Derek survived on his wage as a cop. He was careful with his money, picking and choosing what he spent it on, going for quality rather than quantity. His needs were few, good food and clothes, a nice ride, a good TV and things to amuse him. He wasn't particularly social, he didn't drink to excess or smoke, he didn't frequent bars or clubs except occasionally with Chris or in the course of his work, he used the police gym and liked to read. He would have said he was content with a solitary life and got sex as and when he wanted it, no strings or messy relationships involved. That was until Stiles had made him realize that perhaps he was lonely. The truth was he had a tidy nest egg put aside and gaining interest that he never touched.

Derek's parents had perished in a house fire when he was fourteen. He and his older sister Laura were at school and his baby sister Cora was rescued by fire fighters. Laura was three years older than Derek, Cora an unexpected gift to his parents, ten years younger. They'd been taken in by their Uncle Peter, his father's brother and their aunt Jennifer, themselves childless. Both his parents had hefty life insurances and then there was the house insurance on top. The money had been divided equally between the siblings and placed in trust for them. Laura had used part of her's to see her through college and get her own place, she was now married to an Orthodontist and living in New York with a young family. Cora was seventeen, still living with his aunt and uncle and starting UCLA next Fall. Derek had never touched his share, preferring to work his way through college and into the Police Academy. He could sponsor Stiles education, maybe even buy a small house with a basement in a nice neighborhood. His mind wandered, he could build a cell to put Stiles in when he needed punishing or he had visitors or had to go out. That would be much nicer than the cages he saw on line and in porno movies. Deep down, even under the strong impulse to dominate and fuck Stiles, he was a caring person, still a cop and he wanted to help. 

Stiles looked at Derek considering he worked vice he didn't seem to realize that nice clothes wouldn't make up for a basic education and you didn't have to look smart to wash dishes. "Thanks I really appreciate it, but you don't have to." He shook his head a little. "The kind of interviews I'll be going for they don't expect you to be well dressed and the jobs don't come with medical."

Derek frowned. "You go in looking nice, you might get busboy or waiter instead of washing dishes and who knows you might want to consider picking up your education. You're eighteen, it's not too late." He let the germ of an idea lie, it would take hold or not, it would be better if Stiles agreed to it rather than being forced. He finished up his food, getting up to rinse the plate and the other dirty dishes and put them in the dishwasher. "You about done?" 

Stiles felt awful, he'd hurt the guy's feelings. "Look, I'm sorry I'm not used to someone being nice to me and you're right, not too sure about a waiter, I'm kinda clumsy," he giggled, " but busboy would be great, thanks. I don't know about going back to school, I didn't do so well."

Derek was busying his hands with starting a pot of coffee. "Better get used to being treated well." Derek moved around behind Stiles as the coffee started to brew. His arms wrapped around Stiles possessively and he kissed and nipped at his neck. 

Stiles glanced at him sideways with a smile and whimpered softly when his neck was nipped. Looked like living with Derek was something he could get used to.

Derek took Stiles empty plate. "Okay, come see how I arrange things in the dishwasher." It was the beginning of a long day for them both. Derek showed Stiles all the particular ways he liked things done and liked them arranged. He had a very ordered life and apartment and he expected to keep it that way. He took him step by step through handling the laundry, for example, and how to hang his suits and so forth. Stiles paid keen attention and learnt quickly. They stopped for a bite of lunch and kept at it almost until dinner time. 

Stiles trotted around after Derek for most of the day.He seemed very particular with the way he liked things done and although Stiles tended to think life was too short, he was calling the shots. He remembered what he could and was damned if he was going to take notes but it didn't look too hard. He had to admit he liked the neat and tidy apartment and the orderly life that seemed to go on there.

After a long day of wearying detail, Derek was ready to get out and play a little. "Come on, let's get dressed. I'll lend you some of my things, I've got a few older things that might fit you. We'll go shop and get some dinner." 

Stiles nodded enthusiastically it was a long time since he'd _shopped_ anywhere but thrift shops and his stomach rumbled obediently.

Derek had to hide a wicked smile as they walked to the bedroom. Derek intended to take along a few things to make dinner about more than food. Stiles was going to start getting a bit more education in _his_ brand of kink tonight.


	8. Chapter 8

As they were getting dressed, Derek went over to the dresser, to his special little drawer of toys, and picked something out. He slid some lube, a dental dam, and a small packet of wet-naps into his jacket pocket, just in case. Slipping the other toy into his hand, he moved over to where Stiles was trying on some of Derek's clothing. He wrapped his arms around Stiles from behind, kissing and nipping at his neck, and sliding one hand down to curl around Stiles shaft.

Stiles jumped at first when Derek came up behind him, concentrating on a selection of shirts laid out on the bed. Strong arms folded around him from behind and a warm body pressed in close to his back. Soft lips caressed his nape and he leaned back slightly, almost unconsciously into the muscled form. Teeth nipped sharply at his neck and he whimpered a little and then gasped as strong, slender fingers wrapped themselves around his flaccid cock in a tight embrace. His eyes fluttered shut and his hand reached back to caress Derek's thighs.

Derek couldn't help but love Stiles reaction to him. It was intoxicating, in the way so many random one-night stands had never been. He ground his hips a bit against Stiles ass, his own stiffening cock starting to press against his trousers. "So sexy," he whispered huskily in Stiles ear. "Wish you could see how sexy you look right now." He began to slowly, teasingly stroke Stiles cock.

Stiles moaned softly as Derek's warm breath puffed against his ear and he felt his cock harden and grind against the globes of his ass. The fabric of Derek's trousers rasped against his bare skin and in his heightened awareness seemed rough and coarse. It was exhilarating to realize he could elicit such a response and that Derek actually thought him sexy. Stiles pushed a little against him as Derek's fingers glided in an almost lazy, half forgotten motion up and down his waking shaft.

Derek was continuing his slow stroking, feeling Stiles cock harden in his hand. His other arm was keeping Stiles pinned against him, not that the younger man showed any signs of trying to escape. He was waiting, teasing, watching for the perfect moment. As Stiles shaft firmed in his hand, he slid his free hand down, then used both hands with practiced ease to slip on and snap a little leather contraption. A cock ring. 

The feel of leather on his sensitive shaft brought Stiles back into focus, it was an unwelcome surprise. Stiles looked down the length of his body to where broad digits still held his rigid cock as it jutted obscenely from his nest of dark, wiry curls and the black leather that encircled it tightly, he groaned."What the....," he started to protest.

Derek chuckled wickedly. "It's a cock ring, Stiles." Derek stroked a bit on Stiles trapped cock. "It'll help you learn some control." He held Stiles against him with one arm. 

Stiles frowned slightly and pouted."You want me to wear it while we have dinner? How am I supposed to get my pants on?" 

"Press it against your belly and zip up," Derek replied. He could see the pout on Stiles face, and he decided to make it more interesting. "Tell you what, you manage to make it through dinner without begging me to take it off, I'll give you fifty dollars." Derek's grin was pure sin. He was certain he could tease Stiles into begging well before dinner was over. 

Stiles eyes lit up. "Fifty dollars?" A good start to the Stiles Stilinski restoration fund."Uh, what do I have to give you if I lose?"

"You wear a collar for me tonight and tomorrow." Derek's fingers slid up Stiles body and stroked his neck. "And a leash." The very thought of Stiles in collar and leash made his own trousers suddenly very tight. 

"A collar and leash?" Ok, so Derek's status was upped to _very kinky_ , not that Stiles minded much, indoors. "You won't try to put a puppy tail on me or floppy ears, will you?"

Derek laughed. "No, no tail or ears." 

Stiles thought for a second."Yeah ok, but I gotta tell you even without tail and ears, that's some weird shit right there."

Derek grinned and nodded, kissing Stiles shoulder, nipping his skin between his teeth and then letting him go. "Get dressed. I'm sure you're hungry." 

Stiles nodded and pressed his cock as flat as he could against his stomach and as carefully as he could drew up the zip of his trousers, sighing with relief when it was done. It wasn't the most comfortable thing it the world, but it wasn't too awful.

Derek finished dressing and waited for Stiles, then the two of them headed out. Derek pulled into a little strip mall with a few chain stores that sold casual clothing, the type he intended to get for Stiles. "Come on, we'll grab you an outfit. Shouldn't take long." 

Stiles looked at the stores and padded obediently after Derek.

Derek walked in, looked around, and headed straight for some chinos. He grabbed a pair in Stiles size, then over to the shirts, grabbing a few button-down shirts. "Ok, to the dressing room, let's try these on." He didn't want to dawdle over this, he was actually pretty hungry for dinner himself, and also he figured he could tease Stiles some more in the dressing room. 

Stiles took the proffered clothes. He hadn't really _expected_ to have a say in their choosing, after all Derek was paying and therefore he had the right to do the choosing, but he was surprised by how quickly he chose. "Where's the..." He didn't have time to finish as Derek ushered him toward the dressing room at the rear of the shop.

Derek clicked the lock on the door as they stepped into a dressing stall. Derek settled onto the lone chair, and gripped Stiles hips, pulling him closer. He did a quick nuzzle against Stiles groin, feeling his hard and trapped cock underneath the cloth. "Let's see how you look in these." His fingers worked Stiles zipper, easing it down, lowering his trousers. It was a surprise when Derek took hold of his hips and pulled him between his open legs and nuzzled at his sensitive crotch. He groaned and his fingers gripped at Derek's shoulders as the cop slowly, teasingly kissed his straining cock, Stiles shifted his feet and gave a pained moan.

Derek leaned back after a moment and casually laced his fingers behind his head. "Try on the pants. And then the shirts." He was enjoying this little game so far, and he couldn't help but notice how compliant Stiles was to being ordered.

Stiles steadied himself and stepped out of his pants and pulled on the Chinos. He wasn't above a bit of teasing of his own and wriggled his ass as he pulled them up over his hips and then reached for a shirt. He buttoned it up and tucked it into his pants before fastening them up.He turned to be appraised by Derek.

Derek looked Stiles over, taking in the fit of the pants and shirt. "Perfect. Makes you look like a proper young man and not a street urchin." 

Stiles couldn't help but wonder at the title 'proper young man', he'd been called a lot of things, 'proper young man' was not amongst them. He hid a smile, considering what Derek had done to him it was an amusing turn of phrase.

Derek pulled him over again, his big hands cupping his ass through the pants, each cheek a comfortable handful. "You like them?" 

Stiles smiled a little shyly."I love them," he placed his hands on Derek's shoulders and dipped his head for a kiss.

Derek met Stiles lips and lingered over a slow kiss. "Mmmm, nice thank you." He grinned and patted Stiles lightly on the ass. "Get back into your other clothes, I'll get these for you." 

Stiles slipped off the Chinos and the shirt and passed them to Derek. He thought he was beginning to get the measure of the dark man, small displays of gratitude and affection seemed to please him and God knew it was no hardship. As for the rest, Derek seemed to get off on being in charge and Stiles found he didn't mind.

After Stiles got dressed again, they moved out and Derek bought the clothes for Stiles. They weren't terribly expensive, nothing to strain Derek's bank account. They slid back into the car, and off to dinner. Derek knew he was spoiling Stiles a bit, but all the better if he actually intended to hang onto him for a while. Stiles seemed so starved for attention, and it was obvious no one had ever treated him decently. They pulled up to a sprawling Mexican restaurant. Derek guided them in, asking for a table on the back patio, in one of the more isolated spots. It was a spot where Derek could tease with relative impunity. He still wanted to see Stiles wear a collar for him. 

The decor of the restaurant was the usual cheesy faked Mexican adobe interior with gaudy decorations inside, but outside was different. The tables and chairs were wrought iron, and the tables inlaid with painted tiles. The patio was a veritable garden, thick with flowers and climbing vines and small trees. There was the faint scents from the flowers wafting in the air along with the sizzling smell of meat and onions from the fajita platters. They were seated at the table, and Derek ordered for them as they sat down, a pitcher of sangria, queso and chips, and a platter of fajitas to split. The waitress moved off, giving them both a knowing wink as she left. 

Stiles looked about,it was nice here, nicer than inside and the smell of the food and flowers was pleasant. "Wow, this is really nice, kind of romantic," he nodded at the flowers and he smiled.

Derek grinned back at Stiles. "It is. It's certainly more private." Derek's hand moved under the table to rest on Stiles knee. 

Stiles didn't move his knee and the solid heat from Derek's hand soaked through the fabric of his trousers.

The hand stroked Stiles knee and slid slowly up his thigh. Derek's gaze at Stiles was direct and provocative, almost daring him to object.

Stiles squirmed a little taking in the challenging look in Derek's eyes. "Oh umm it's a nice night." He said lamely and shifted his leg a little.

Derek kept gliding his hand up, leaning in a little closer. "It is," he whispered. "Going to end up with me sucking your cock, you know that." 

Stiles spluttered, his eyes going wide as they flickered around to see if any one had overheard, apart from a woman glancing at him from another table there was no reaction. "This is a restaurant!" He whispered urgently. "Besides I'm going to win my fifty dollars." His eyes held the hint of defiance.

Derek chuckled. "We'll see." He sat back and removed his hand temporarily as the waitress returned with a pitcher of sangria, fruit still floating in among the ice, a basket of chips, and the queso dip. "Saved by the queso," he said. 

Stiles eyed him, truth was Stiles rather enjoyed a challenge. "Yeah,we will." He mumbled taking a chip and dipping it.

Derek poured a big glass of sangria for them both. "This is more juice and fruit than wine," Derek said. "That's why I order it here, I know between time and food I won't be impaired." He took a sip of it with a satisfied sigh. "Good stuff." He took a chip and scooped up a some of the gooey hot cheese, chomping down with gusto. The more he mentally examined this evening, the better it looked all round for him. Either he won and Stiles was wearing a collar, or at worst he lost and spent an evening teasing Stiles and eating good Mexican food. 

Stiles chewed away at the chip, there were few things he enjoyed more than gooey, sticky cheese and many was the time he'd survived on cheese on toast. He of course decided that by _impaired_ Derek meant able to drive. He took a sip of the sangria,it was fruity and sweet and he licked his lips."This is nice."

"Glad you like it." There was companionable silence at the table for a bit as they both worked on the queso and sipped sangria. As the initial edge of their hunger eased back, Derek's thoughts turned to teasing Stiles, and his hand found Stiles thigh again under the table. 

Stiles squirmed a little and looked surreptitiously about but he didn't pull away, the feel of Derek's hand on his thigh wasn't unpleasant.

Derek slid his hand up further, now letting fingertips stroke ever so lightly against Stiles imprisoned cock through his trousers. 

This time Stiles did squirm away a little and made a soft sound. "Derek," he said quietly and ducked his head.

Derek arched an eyebrow. "Yes?"

Stiles looked at him. "We're in public!" He protested quietly.

"Only barely." Derek's hand moved back again. "Or do you just not like this?" 

Stiles wanted very much to say that he didn't, but that wasn't exactly true. Never in his life had he been the focus of so much attention, even if it was mostly sexual and he was enjoying it. The feel of Derek's fingertips brushing his cock was nice, very nice but trapped as it was it throbbed uncomfortably with the rhythm of his heart and Derek's brushing with his fingertips made it worse. Stiles looked from under long lashes. "I don't dislike it."

Those wicked fingers kept brushing. "Or do you not want to play the game?"

Stiles raised his head . "I'll play," he answered boldly.

Derek smiled wickedly. "Good boy." Fingers turned to a palm as Derek rubbed harder, leaning in to whisper in Stiles ear. "Don't you want my lips on that hard cock, boy?" 

Stiles gave a moan. His cock throbbed and the cock ring felt impossibly tight as Derek stroked. He could think of nothing better than Derek's mouth on him and he panted a little. If he could hold out to the main course, hopefully Derek would be too busy eating to tease him. "I do ," Stiles whispered,"but not giving in."

Derek had to admire Stiles determination. He could see in t

he corner of his eye the waitress approaching again, so he sat back and removed his hand. She set down the sizzling platter with strips of fajita meat, grilled onions and peppers, and then all the fixing on another platter, and then the beans and rice. Derek gave her a winning smile as she moved away, then turned to Stiles. "Well I suppose this _meat_ will have to do." His grin was wicked.

The corner of Stiles mouth twitched at the double entendre and he felt Derek's hand slide away. He was relieved, but at the same time somewhat regretful. His nose twitched at the wonderful aroma and the sight of the delicious food, if it was as good as it looked and smelt, he was in for a treat. He gave a half smile."Never mind this meat looks a right tasty treat."

Derek chuckled. He took a hot tortilla and speared some fajitas with his fork, sliding them onto the tortilla. He added some guacamole and cheese and sour cream, and rolled up the tortilla. He brought it to his lips, and licked around the edge before taking it slowly into his mouth, lingering obscenely before he finally took a bite.

Stiles watched as Derek's lips closed around the tortilla and he paused in his own makings and his pupils dilated a little and then seeing the smug look on Derek's face he continued and rolled up his tortilla, carried it to his mouth and purposefully took a large bite. The inside was squashed out and plopped onto his plate.

Derek swallowed his own bite and had to grin. "That's what I mean about control." 

Stiles scowled a little and opened his tortilla and stuffed the spilled contents back inside. This time instead of taking a bite, he sucked first and then took a bite.

"Better," Derek commented, then set to work on his own food. It was really good, as it had been every time he'd been here. He had to admit, though, it was a lot more enjoyable sharing the meal.

Stiles shouldn't have felt pleased at Derek's praise, but he did and set about eating with more restraint."This is good." He mumbled around a mouthful.

Derek nodded and sipped at the sangria relaxing back to eat. Stiles might make his money at this rate. He'd have a reprieve as they ate, anyway. 

Stiles thought the $50 as good as his, Derek appeared to have relaxed and ceased his molestation. That didn't do a lot to help him though, his cock was still hard and uncomfortable and he shuffled around on his seat a little.

They continued on with dinner. Between the two of them, the platter of meat didn't stand a chance. But as the food got scarcer, Derek found he had time for one hand to caress Stiles thigh again under the table. 

Stiles jumped as Derek's hand slid across his thigh and the contents of his tortilla splurged out and plopped onto the plate. Derek's hand was a warm, solid presence and his cock twitched gamely as Stiles cast him a hooded, heated look.

Derek returned the look, sliding his hand up further. He didn't break the tension by speaking, just stroked and gazed.

The heat in Derek's eyes seemed to scorch his skin. Stiles whimpered slightly as even against the cock ring, his cock hardened further and throbbed almost painfully. He knew he should squirm away from the stroking, questing hand but Derek's eyes held him in place like a pinned butterfly. 

Derek felt like he was getting close when the waitress returned again. "You guys done or will there be anything else?" She chirped. Derek 's hand stilled but did not leave Stiles thigh. "A plate of sopapillas," he said. "Skip the powdered sugar but be sure to bring the honey." The waitress cleared the table and moved off with the order. 

Derek's hand rested on the inside of his thigh as he placed the order and its heat soaked through his trousers and did little to bring him relief.

Derek started stroking again as she left. "Would rather have you for dessert," Derek said. 

Stiles let out a small guttural sound, Derek's words ate into him, the raw need and desire in his husky voice, the look of lust and heat in his eye. He gripped the edge of the table. "Please Derek," he muttered softly.

"Please what?" 

Stiles closed his eyes as the large vein on the underside of his cock pulsed. A serpent of need uncurled in his gut, raw need gnawed at him and every nerve in his body seemed to fire and sizzle with pure lust. He opened his eyes, black, unfocused, glazed with lust and looked straight at Derek. "Please," he repeated softly.

"You want the ring off?" Derek asked, his voice soft but insistent on an answer. 

Stiles nodded, he was giving up and in losing he couldn't help but think he was really winning. 

Derek pushed to his feet, drawing Stiles up with him. They wove quickly through the restaurant, ignoring curious gazes, and got to the restroom. Derek pushed Stiles into a stall, locking the door behind them, and his fingers worked on Stiles jeans. Soon the zipper was down, the boxers pushed down to his knees, and Derek snapped off the cock ring with an expert flick of his wrist. Stiles cock was almost purplish, swollen with need. Derek's fingers curled around it, stroking hard and fast. 

Stiles couldn't, wouldn't last long once the ring was off. The evening of teasing had driven him to the edge and the cock ring held him suspended there, now there was nothing holding him back from tumbling into the chasm of release. He grasped Derek's shoulders for support as he stripped his cock hard and fast. "Oh God Derek, fuck yeah!" He tossed his head back, eyes closed and thrust wildly and uncontrolled into the cop's tight hand. He panted and his hips jerked backward and forward , then he grimaced as his balls drew up and pulsed. His head fell forward, his arms entwined Derek's neck and he buried his face in the curve of Derek's shoulder and stifled a cry as lightning snaked down his spine and a pyrotechnic display flashed behind his eyelids and his release pulsed from his cock. His body convulsed as he jerked and ropes of pearly cum filled Derek's hand and he subsided against him with a grateful sob.

Derek stifled a groan as Stiles subsided against him, and he held Stiles steady after his explosive climax. "Good boy," he whispered. He held him close a moment before plucking the wet-naps from his pocket to clean them both.

Stiles panted as Derek held him, his head swimming in a sea of euphoria. Then Derek was gently cleaning him and he groaned softly and leaned into his touch, he lay his head on his shoulder and mouthed the cop's neck.

Derek kissed him, tossing the last of the wet-naps into the toilet, then wrapping his arms around him. "All things considered I think we'll take dessert to go," he said with a self - satisfied grin. He hadn't blown the boy, but his mission was accomplished and Stiles would look pretty in a collar.


	9. Chapter 9

Derek slid out of bed carefully, trying not to wake the sleeping Stiles. It had been one hell of a night once they'd gotten home. Derek had to smile, remembering it. They'd barely made it in the door before he'd pinned Stiles up against the wall, rubbing them both to climax without even bothering to undress. There was an untidy trail of clothing from the door into the bedroom. It had been wild and intense and he _still_ hadn't taken Stiles's ass. He padded off into the bathroom and started the shower, stepping in once the water was hot. 

Stiles drifted awake slowly, distantly he could hear the noise of running water and he turned on his back and stretched. He raised his arms above his head and arched his back and his bones cracked and muscles tensed. He scratched his balls and opened his eyes. The room was in semi darkness and the bed beside him was cold and vacant, which was kind of disappointing. Once they'd returned from the restaurant it had been a wild ride. Derek's need was demanding and urgent and Stiles had never felt so desired. He was carried away on a tidal wave of desire and lust and before they'd barely got inside the front door he'd been shoved against the wall and humped until he creamed his pants. It got wilder from there with Derek all but tearing off his clothes and there'd followed a night of rubbing, sucking and coming, which left him pleasantly exhausted.

Derek kept the shower short. He stepped out and toweled himself off, pulling on a clean pair of sweat pants before going back into the bedroom. He saw Stiles was awake, and smiled at him. "Morning, sleeping beauty. Sleep well?"

Stiles smiled back taking in the curly,damp hair,it made the cop look softer but was off set by the sculptured,muscled chest. He levered himself up onto the pillows."Yeah,I was pretty tired, did you sleep,ok?"

"Like a wolf with a full belly." Derek chuckled, and sat back down on the bed. "You look sexy in the morning." His hand reached out to stroke Stiles's unruly, dark, sleep-mussed hair. 

Stiles's eyes shut and he pushed into the hand and then self consciously ducked his head. He wasn't used to personal praise, he really wasn't. His father had been more _hands off_ than hands on, except for the odd cuff around the ear when he was small that escalated to full beatings by the time he was a teenager. Affection was frowned on as an unnecessary waste of time. Most of the kindness he'd known had come from his best friend's mother, Melissa McCall and his bro Scott. 

It had been the death of his mother that set Stiles off on the wrong road and the comradeship and sense of _belonging_ that gang membership gave did the rest. His father had always said he was a waste of space and Stiles was loathe to prove him wrong. Melissa had all but given up on him by the time he went to juvie. Derek was unexpectedly affectionate and very _hands on_ and God knows Stiles didn't mind. He gave a small giggle,no-one had ever called him _sexy_ and he had a job believing it.

Derek read his body language. Damn, Stiles had no idea how much he looked and behaved as a submissive. He was damn lucky some pimp hadn't found him, someone like Stiles could be so easily preyed upon and manipulated for financial gain and cruel intent... He'd be worth a fortune to anyone putting his ass out there on the street. It made him feel both protective of Stiles and wickedly hot to play with him. He leaned down and captured Stiles's lips in a kiss. 

The dark-haired man captured his lips in a possessive kiss and Stiles looped his arms around Derek's neck and kissed back, his lips working against Derek's. He felt desire begin to unfurl in his gut and he squirmed around until he got his knees under him and he knelt up and into the kiss. His heart tripped and his head swam, never had anyone made him feel the things Derek did.

Derek felt his possessiveness grow as Stiles moved in closer against him, intensifying the kiss. It had taken him by surprise how quickly the slender, pale skinned boy with his guileless, enthusiastic nature had gotten under his skin in a way no-one else had for a long, long time. His hands slid down Stiles's back and cupped his ass. He surfaced from the kiss, whispering, "You're very sexy in the morning." He kissed on Stiles's neck. "So eager. What do you want, Stiles? Let me hear you say it." 

Stiles pulled back, his eyes black, lips red,cheeks flushed and he panted softly through is mouth. What _did_ he want, more of the same as last night or something else? A primeval something as old as time, a need to be taken, owned, possessed by Derek that was more animal than human blossomed in the pit of his belly. Was he ready to take the risk? Not yet..... It was too soon, he was too wary and unsure, uncertain of what kind of relationship he had here with Derek. He settled back onto his heels. " I need you to make me cum," he said simply.

Derek nodded at the words. Inside he was hot and getting hotter. Here was the shy, uncertain boy he'd brought home two nights ago, now uttering these words, making his desire clear. He'd been pretty sure Stiles was actually enjoying what they did together, and the words made it obvious he was. He stroked Stiles's hair and leaned in to nip his shoulder lightly. "Let me get some toys." He pushed up off the bed and went over to his little drawer of toys, and smiling as he picked up a rectangular box, longer than it was wide. He lifted the lid and looked at the collar nestling inside in black tissue paper. It was substantial, something he'd paid a pretty penny for but never used, handmade leather with a lining of sheepskin. The deep red leather was tooled with elaborate, intricate patterns. He'd always intended to use it on the whores he brought home, but never had, never wanted to or thought it appropriate. He turned back to Stiles, taking the collar from the box and caressing it in his hands. "Need to put this on you first, you do remember our little wager last night?"

Stiles eyes drifted down from Derek's face to the red leather collar in his hands. It was about an inch wide with bright, shiny silver fastenings, and a D ring, it looked supple and new. He remembered the wager, though the truth was he didn't _really_ expect Derek to make him wear a collar. Nevertheless it was pretty and Stiles realized that he didn't mind the thought of wearing it, it was kinda hot and signified Derek's ownership and dominance over him and his acknowledgement of being owned and dominated. He nodded. "I remember."

Derek moved in closer, and slid the collar around Stiles's neck. The very act of it started to make him hard. There were dark places in him that thrilled to the idea of Stiles as his very own sex slave. It was something he and Chris had discussed many times and a Derek had a fantasy about. Chris indulged in this fantasy regularly, especially with Issac. They would pick up the pretty boy whore from his pitch on Hollywood's Walk of Fame. By day it was full of eager tourists snapping pictures of the pink, terrazzo five-pointed stars rimmed with bronze and inlaid into charcoal colored squares on the sidewalk, by night it was the domain of hookers, rent boys, junkies, muggers and dealers. The tourists were still there, but less in number and most had interests other than the pink stars. 

It was a good pitch and Isaac guarded it jealously and consequently they always knew where he was to be found. Chris would take Issac to his home and keep the boy for a night, weekend or even a week or two at a time, however the mood took him and then return him to his pitch. Issac was strictly freelance, one of the few whores without a pimp breathing down his neck and Chris's interest in him ensured he was left more or less unmolested. It was a win, win situation for them both, Issac made a reasonable living and Chris had a submissive on tap, when he liked, how he liked and was still free to play the field.

Derek wanted something more permanent, keeping a submissive 24/7 appealed but with his lifestyle was impractical he knew, but this was a harmless fantasy, a little power play. He buckled it carefully, not too tight, not too slack. His fingers slid over the leather. "You look even more sexy," he breathed. He spoke a bit louder, saying dryly, "Fit all right?"

The collar fitted snugly around Stiles neck,not too tight and yet not so slack that it slid around. The brush of Derek's fingers against his skin as he buckled it in place made Stiles flesh tingle and his insides squirm. The circle of leather rested lightly on his collarbone and didn't feel at all restrictive or unpleasant. Stiles nodded. "Yeah," he breathed, "it fits ok." He raised his hand and his fingers caressed the leather and followed the tooled, embossed pattern. His eyes swept up and gazed into Derek's and he saw himself reflected there, responding to the heat in his eyes, Stiles lips parted and his mouth went dry.

Derek felt the tiniest edge of triumph at Stiles easy acceptance of the collar, even though it was likely he didn't fully get the depth of its meaning. A knot formed in his throat and he swallowed around it, his voice broken and husky when he next spoke. "See how sexy you look in the mirror." He stepped to the side and Stiles was able to see himself in the dresser mirror. He could hardly believe the boy looking back at him was himself, pale skin, wide, shining brown eyes, dark hair mussed from sleep, kneeling naked on the bed a red collar around his neck and resting neatly against the dip of his throat. A tremor shivered through his body as though something settled in place and a warmth and contentment wrapped like a comforting cloak about him. 

Derek gave Stiles a minute to look at himself and watched closely the myriad of emotions the boy made no attempt to conceal, shift across his face and settle into a look of quiet calm. He couldn't wait and his hand reached out and fingers slid underneath and gripped the collar and pulled Stiles in close for another kiss. 

Stiles felt the tug on the collar and even as Derek kissed him his whole being was filled with a fierce _wanting_ , his cock swelled with liquid heat and he grew hard. There was something about being collared and under Derek's command, submissive to his desires that Stiles found darkly, undeniably, attractive. He whimpered, whined and pressed into the kiss,his heart pounding against the cage of his ribs and the sound of his blood deafening in his ears.

Derek gave a guttural groan as Stiles pushed in closer. There were moments like this when he was behaving so submissively, when he moved like this, made these noises, that Derek just wanted to push him down and take him roughly,lay claim to him and own him completely. It was absurd how possessive and protective he felt in every sense. Like Stiles was **his** , even if he didn't know it yet. His free hand slid down to stroke Stiles's hip, then across his thigh to press between his legs, fingers caressing his inner thigh. 

Stiles moaned softly and at Derek's caress his legs fell open and his hands ran over Derek's chest, shoulders and back. He mouthed at Derek's neck and shoulder, groaned and shut his eyes letting the sparks from Derek's touch ignite his blood.

Derek wrenched his mouth away with a regretful groan before things went too far. He intended to take Stiles ass and soon but at a time and in a place of his choosing and it wasn't yet, not when he felt so raw, so possessive, so wildly aroused by the sight of Stiles wearing his collar for the first time. He wanted to be in control and at the moment he felt his control slipping and he didn't want to hurt the boy and consequently have to fight him everytime he wanted to fuck him. A little resistence was good,arousing, Derek liked it rough, he liked dominance and submission, he liked bondage and discipline, he got off on control but he wasn't a rapist. He felt the boy's arousal and sexual tension sparking between them and he tucked Stiles head under his chin and settled Stiles against his hard body. "Your shaking," he said mildly.

And Stiles was, his body vibrating with sexual arousal and more than a little confusion. He put his arms around Derek's waist and pushed his head into his broad shoulder. He had been certain Derek was going to fuck him and thought that both terrified and excited him. He had been expecting it since Derek took him home and would have almost felt rejected except for the sexy times they had already had. Derek found him arousing, there was no doubt of that and he was such a masculine, dominant man with a kinky twist and control issues, maybe a bit anal, what was he waiting for? Stiles body hummed and every nerve was alert and ready to spark into life. Was Derek showing him another way he exercised control, over himself and him? "Don't you want me?" The boy murmured, his voice colored with something that sounded remarkably like disappointment as Derek pressed his lips to his dark head.

Derek eased him back to where he could look into his face. "Of course I want you," he answered, his voice warped with need and eyes hooded with desire, "you're sexy as fuck and I'm hard enough to hammer nails, but I want to take it slow your first time and if I take you now, it won't be." Stiles shivered, how did Derek make a threat sound so inviting? " He was grateful, Derek was a strange, complex man and one he wanted to know better.

"But I _will_ have your ass." Derek answered, his voice thick and unsteady. He pressed a kiss to Stiles forehead. "Get a shower and dressed." He gestured with his chin toward the bathroom. "Then you can change the sheets and make the bed. You know where everything is?" Stiles nodded. "Good," Derek released him and rose to his feet. "I'll be in the kitchen making us some breakfast. Bacon and scrambled eggs okay?"

"Fine," Stiles nodded and pouted as Derek turned and stepped away subtly adjusting himself in his sweats. A lesson learned, Stiles would have sexual relief when Derek wanted, not when _he_ did... Even if the cop did feel it was a bit like cutting off his nose to spite his face!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Waves! I'm back! I was taken suddenly ill an have spent a week in hospital. Profuse apologies for missing posting days, just one of those things. Normal service is resumed. Many, many thanks for the concern and kind wishes it is very much appreciated.
> 
> *Hugs*   
>  Chris.

Stiles stared after Derek. Well that was just _strange_ Derek had asked what he wanted, teased and aroused him and then just left him hanging, so to speak. His body hummed and his blood ached with the arousal Derek's teasing had provoked and he pressed the heel of his hand against his throbbing dick. He felt like jerking off and it would serve the cop right if he heard! Stiles pouted knowing he wouldn't do it, somehow he sensed Derek wouldn't be pleased if he took matters into his own hands and it made no sense to provoke him when Derek was being so... _Kind_ was the wrong word, everything Derek did was for his own benefit as well as Stiles but he was being _accommodating_.

With a resigned sigh Stiles got up from the bed, his cock swaying under it's own heft, jutting out from his groin and throbbing dully with each step he took toward the bathroom. Stiles took a leak and flushed the toilet before he slid back the glass door of the shower cubicle and turned on the water, adjusting the temperature. 

He studied himself in the mirror over the wash basin. The face that stared back at him looked better than Stiles could remember for a long time,less gaunt, the dark smudges and tension around the eyes was gone and the eyes themselves brighter and more alert. His eyes lowered to the red, leather collar around his neck and he admired it and the way it nestled against his creamy skin. His hands rose and he turned it around until he found the buckle and unfastened it with regret, the comfort of its presence keenly lost as he slipped it off, but there was no way he was going to get it wet. He lay it reverently on the widow sill before stepping with a hiss under the spray of water and sliding the glass door closed. Steam swirled around him and hot, needle sharp diamonds of water pounded his skin. It felt pleasant and he grasped the same shower gel he'd used the previous evening and poured a generous amount into this hand, rubbed his palms together until he had a rich, creamy lather and then he ran his hands over his slippery skin. He didn't dawdle, not fully believing that the hot water wouldn't run out on him at any minute and he used business-like economical movements and bit off a moan as he ran his fingers over his cock and balls, wishing they were Derek's hands.

The cop was a strange one and it was difficult to work out exactly what Derek wanted from him, sex certainly, someone to cook and clean, probably but he had a feeling he wanted something more. The cop was kinky and Stiles was sure he had not yet experienced the full extent of his kink, but he didn't think he would hurt him or force him to do something he absolutely didn't want to, the dude was a cop after all. Derek got a kick restraining him, got off on the power and control the truth was Stiles didn't mind, even liked it. After the death of his mother his father had more or less ignored him, didn't care what he did as long as he stayed out of trouble, didn't give structure to his life or any boundaries he could understand. Life had been chaotic, he largely took care of himself, survived on take out or the meals Mrs McCall gave him, he ran with gangs, missed school. His father only seemed to notice him when he beat him, when he was too noisy, broke things or got into trouble and Stiles didn't really understand _why_ , no-one told him _not_ to do things and so for a long time he presumed that it was his father's way of showing he gave a fuck. It was a relief to at last be with someone whose life was orderly, who told him exactly how he liked things done, gave him boundaries he understood and could live with and expectations he could meet and he didn't think Derek would beat him, or at least not without reason.

In juvie there had been a boy, Danny and he said he had once had a _Dom_. He _belonged_ to the man, lived with him for more than a year, wore his collar and did everything the man told him. But he had been cared for, protected, even _loved._ Danny's Dom had been very strict, Danny was only allowed on the furniture when he said, he didn't speak or look at him unless told to, he had a set of rules, lots of them and the Dom punished him when Danny broke them. He broke them a lot but Stiles thought from the look in his eyes when he spoke about it, Danny didn't mind being punished. They did lots of weird, kinky things sexually, some of them Danny didn't particularly like but more he did. Stiles had been fascinated but not sure he would like to live like that, without any autonomy. Above all Danny said the Dom had the right to fuck him any way he liked at any time and he had no say in it. Stiles shivered as he thought about that, scrubbed his hair with a towel and skimmed another over his body. What would it be like to be totally Derek's? What would it be like to be bent over and fucked anywhere Derek chose, at any time and have no say in what he did to him? An odd, volatile eruption of excitement cascaded through him at that lascivious thought, to give Derek that kind of power, control over him would be thrilling for them both and Derek would care for him, protect him, even perhaps grow to _love_ him. The thought of being loved by Derek gave Stiles a warm, happy feeling as he buckled on his collar and turned it around so the buckle was at the nape and D ring at the center of his throat.

Stiles finished drying, and used his toothbrush to clean the unpleasant film that seemed to cover his teeth, swilling his mouth out with mouthwash and water. His beard grew slowly and he only shaved two or three times a week, so that was okay. He tossed his dirty towels into the hamper and padded barefoot into the bedroom, he found Derek had laid out a pair of grey sweat pants that he obviously wanted him to wear,he dragged them on cinching the drawstring tight and set about changing the sheets and making the bed as he was told.

Derek rest his hip against the kitchen counter and gazed glassy eyed into the middle distance lost in the erotic image that ran through his mind. Stiles, on his knees before him, dark eyes swept up to his face as he fucked the boy's mouth, warm, moist, pink lips wrapped around his pulsing cock and cheeks hollowed. The youth had the suction of a hoover, his eyes showed surrender and contentment, and Derek twisted his fingers into his mop of dark hair and snapped his hips back and forth in pursuit of his release. He came back to reality with a jerk shocked by the vivid scene and the depth of his feelings. His cock ached and his balls felt full and heavy, he adjusted himself and pressed the heel of his hand against his hard column of throbbing flesh. He had yet to sample the delights of Stiles luscious mouth and he made a mental note to move it up in his _to do_ list. He heard the shower cut off and turned to the task of preparing breakfast.

Stiles padded into the kitchen and Derek was standing by the stove, bacon under the grill and a pan half full, of half and half heating on the stove. Derek's eyes ran appreciatively over stiles collar and his cock twitched, his bare chest and pert, pink nipples, lean muscles and smattering of dark moles. He had pulled on a dark blue Henley with his jeans but the apartment was warm and he appreciated the view and noticed with pleasure that Stiles seemed comfortable enough in his presence to go half naked without any prompting. "You look very nice Stiles, very sexy." He murmured huskily before he told him to get out plates, glasses, orange juice and added silverware from the drawer and place mats. This time Stiles arranged everything on the table. 

Stiles loved seeing Derek's face light up when he entered the kitchen and when he did as he commanded, basked in his praise and approval instead of disappointment and displeasure. And Derek wasn't dominant all the time. They made breakfast together, arguing over the best way to scramble eggs, how many eggs to use and salt, pepper and butter to add and who washed up. Stiles lost that one but it wasn't as if loading the dishwasher was a hardship.

They'd talked about Derek's work, his parents, sisters, the fire and living with his uncle and aunt, things he enjoyed doing, martial arts, hunting, fishing and working out at the police gym, reading, sex. Stiles gradually built up a picture and was of the opinion he worked too hard and there was an underlying loneliness he found surprising; given his _extra curricular activities_ and his penchant for unorthodox _entertaining._

Stiles wasn't sure about his _friendship_ with Chris, but the two men seemed pretty close and Derek told him that Chris had a on off _Dom-sub arrangement_ with young male whore called Issac and he was more like Danny's Dom than not. He was grateful Derek didn't treat him like that. Derek didn't insist he kneel or keep off the furniture. He wasn't regulated to speaking or looking at him only when he had permission. He babbled on about things he liked to do and Derek listened looking at him over the rim of his glass or as he chewed his food. 

Stiles was certain they'd made too much breakfast, but they got through it, he had to admit he probably had most of it at Derek's insistence though the cop had his fair share. Stiles watched the bob of Derek's Adam's apple in his slender neck as he drained his glass. "You don't drink coffee at breakfast like my dad?" He asked, eager to know more about Derek.

"No," Derek answered setting his glass on the table, "I drink gallons of the stuff at work. I like juice or bottled water at home and the odd beer to help me relax. Sometimes a cup of tea."

"Tea?" Stiles eyebrows rose, "I've never had tea."

Derek smiled. "I'll show you how to make it, there's and art to it," he noted Stiles face fall, "I'll demonstrate, it's not hard."

"Cool," Stiles wagged his head once and forked a last helping of scrambled eggs into his mouth, aware Derek was studying him.

Derek folded his arms on the table and lent on them. "We have to sort some things out Stiles." Stiles swallowed and his eyes lifted to Derek's unfathomable face, in his experience nothing good ever came from those words. " Okay," he answered, fingering his empty glass nervously.

Derek leaned toward Stiles a little. He ran his hand over his lean, stubbled jaw, "I want you to phone your dad."

Stiles eyes widened and his jaw slackened. "Why?" His eyebrows drew together. "He doesn't give a fuck about me." Derek silenced him with a raised hand."That may be true but I'm a cop Stiles and I've handled enough runaways to know that your perception of the situation might not be accurate, he deserves to know your alive and well."

"No he doesn't!" Stiles spat and leaned forward. "I'm eighteen, old enough to live on my own and he threw me out, he doesn't care about me and I don't care about him!"

"This isn't negotiable," Derek said calmly. "You don't have to tell him where you are, it's enough that he knows you're alive and well." Stiles face turned darkly mutinous and his mouth a sour, straight line. "Stiles?" Derek looked at him expectantly with a raised brow. Stiles pushed out a log breath, his shoulders slumping in defeat and gave an imperceptible nod, he had no choice not if he wanted to stay with Derek.

Derek leaned back in his chair, arms still folded. "Good boy, you know it makes sense." And it did to him, if the father really had no interest in the boy then it made it easier for Derek to keep him and more likely Stiles would stick around.

It didn't make sense to Stiles, it didn't at all.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for your kind wishes and support.

Derek went into the living room and sat on the couch and fired up his laptop on the coffee table, he took a few minutes to check his bank balance on line and pay a couple of bills, half an ear on Stiles clattering about in the kitchen loading the dishwasher. By the time Stiles stood hovering in the doorway Derek had finished and logged off his computer, his eyes lifted to Stiles and a kernel of an idea took hold in his mind, something he'd seen in slave movies and it would indicate how submissive Stiles was naturally and how much he'd have to work on him.

Derek pushed the coffee table back with his bare foot and pointed to the floor between his knees. "Come and kneel here." He pointed to a spot slightly in front of his knees in the space he'd created. Derek shivered inside with pleasure as Stiles obeyed without question and folded to his knees on the rug in front of him, eyes lowered. The boy didn't realize the erotic picture of submission he presented to him. "Put your hands flat on your thighs, widen your legs slightly and raise your head, keep your eyes lowered," Derek instructed mildly. Stiles obeyed without question. "I won't want you to kneel to me often, but when I do this is how you will do it." Stiles nodded silently. "Don't nod Stiles," Derek corrected him, "when I want a response from you I want to hear your voice. Say 'yes Derek' or yes sir'."

"Yes sir." Stiles insides tightened, perhaps Derek was going to be more like Danny's Dom after all.

Derek allowed himself a little smile at that the boy automatically choosing the more respectful title. He lent forward elbows resting on his knees. "In the kitchen you argued with me, that won't happen again."

Stiles eyes flicked up to Derek's, face dropping swiftly when he saw the cop's forbidding expression.

"As long as your here," Derek continued, "you'll do as I say, we may discuss things, especially sexual things," the corners of Stiles mouth curled up into a smile, "I don't want you to be unhappy and for that to be the case we must communicate, but you won't argue with me." Derek said firmly. "Do you understand boy?"

Stiles looked up from under his lashes. "Yes sir."

"Good boy." Derek's hand reached out and he ruffled Stiles dark hair affectionately. "Reach behind you and grab the phone, I want you to call your dad."

Stiles eyes flew up to the cop's face and he opened his mouth to speak only to snap it shut when Derek raised a cool eyebrow. "Stiles?" Stiles dropped his gaze and twisted around behind him and grasped the receiver off the base unit and turned forward again. His eyes flicked up to Derek once more watching him intently, still leaning forward, elbows on his knees, expression unfathomable. Stiles punched in the number and waited for it to be picked up on the fourth ring.

"Hey dad, it's Stiles.." He said nervously and then listened for a moment.

"No I'm not in trouble and yeah I know I'm eighteen....." Derek watched as Stiles face tightened.

"I'm sorry to bother you... Stiles mouth was a thin, sour line. "I thought you might like to know I'm ok..." Stiles tried to explain.

"Yeah I know I'm old enough to look after myself..." Derek watched Stiles shoulders sag in rejection.

"Ok, bye dad. Take care of yourself." Stiles ended the call and eyes flicked up to Derek. "See I told you he didn't want to know." Derek took the hand set from him and tossed it on the couch beside him.

"I'm sorry your dad doesn't care Stiles, but it was the right thing to do." It made his life a whole lot easier knowing his father wasn't going to interfere with his plans for the boy. He reached out and pushed his fingers through Stiles silky locks and tightened them tugging his head back. The sight of Stiles on his knees before him made his cock start to fill and he thought it was time to try the boy's luscious mouth. "Have you ever blown anyone, boy? He asked with a sandpaper rasp to his voice and a carnal flame dancing in the back of his eyes.

"Yeah some." Stiles murmured his eyes heavy lidded and almost black as anticipation slicked through his veins and the exhilaration of blowing Derek for the first time.

The cop released his hold and stroked Stiles hair, his excitement building as he took in the boy's submission. He drew back his hand and leaned back in the couch and widened his legs, his cock clearly outlined as a hard column in his sweat pants. Derek pulled a condom from a concealed pocket and held it between his teeth as he tugged on the drawstring and loosened the waist of his pants. Stiles watched spellbound and ran his pink tongue over his lips. The cop hooked his thumbs into the waist of his pants and pushed them down revealing the flushed head of his cock with its wide crest, raised his hips and pushed them over his hips, down his thighs and kicked his feet free of the confining material.

Stiles eyes were black, his pupils blown wide and he inhaled through his slightly parted lips, eyes fixed on the splendid rod of flesh before him, he shuddered like an excited puppy eager to receive a prize. Derek ripped open the condom and sheathed himself. "I prefer being covered. Get up here boy!" He commanded sharply and waved his hand casually in the direction of his crotch settling back into the couch and closing his eyes. His cock rising impressively from his thatch of dark hair. 

Eagerly Stiles crawled forward between Derek's spread legs. For one second he hesitated, Derek's cock wasn't small, he knew that but this close it appeared enormous. His heart bounced off his ribs and his hands felt clammy. _Come on Stiles, you can do this._ God knows he had before. Not often it was true, he preferred to give a hand job, but half a dozen times and never with such an impressive, beautiful slab of meat.

 _Okay, I can_ do this, he thought, actually I'm not half bad at it, at least no-one ever complained. He wet his lips, circled Derek's wide cock with his slim fingers and begin to feed it into his mouth, lips flowing over the hot, turgid flesh.

"Slower boy." Derek murmured keeping his eyes closed, his face relaxed.

He licked a stripe up his long shaft and Derek groaned, his lips parting slightly.

"Tease me, lick me like an ice cream cone, tantalize me before you get down to business."Derek said huskily giving the boy instruction how he liked to be blown.

Tease him? Tantalize him? Most times Stiles partners just wanted to come as quickly as possible but Derek wanted to spin it out. He licked another stripe up Derek's cock. The flavor of _oranges_ burst on his tongue, Derek had used an orange flavored condom! A small chuckle escaped Stiles and his eyes flicked up the length of Derek's body to his face and he opened his green eyes briefly, hooded like a hawk and winked at him before closing them again.

Somehow after that it went easier. Stiles bobbed his head and took increasing amounts of Derek's shaft into his mouth. There was no way he could take it all and he'd never deep throated and Derek didn't push, there'd be ample time to work on the boy's skills and have him taking him down his throat like a pro. There was no sense in frightening and strong-arming the boy into more than he could take, Derek wanted him to _want_ to do it, _want_ to please him, not be afraid or fight him every time he wanted those plump, pink lips on him. "Circle the head." He moaned softly. "Lick the shaft." He gave a guttural groan. "Massage my balls with one hand." Blood thundered trough his veins as Stiles did as he was told and rolled his heavy balls gently in his hand. "Suck harder. Bob faster, slower. Take me deeper. Grip the base firmly. Swirl your tongue. Tease the head." Derek kept up a litany of instructions his voice thick, heavy and warped with pleasure, the boy took instruction well and had potential.

Stiles body vibrated with excitement and his blood hummed through his veins and pulse raced. His chest rubbed against the skin of Derek's thighs and his nipples puckered and tingled. The cop started to groan and thrust shallowly into his mouth, but made no attempt to hold his head or push harshly down his throat. His jaw is beginning to ache when at last Derek stiffened and came with a harsh cry, his release ballooning out the end of the condom. "Nicely done boy." He praised, his breathing ragged and face flushed."But don't stop yet. Ease me down slowly."

When Derek was flaccid he pointed to a wastebasket discreetly hidden by ferns in a planter.

"Fetch some wipes from the nightstand in the bedroom and clean me off and dispose of the condom in the wastebasket." Stiles scrambled to do as he told. "And your response is what, Stiles?" Derek added coldly.

"Yes Sir," he answered as he hurried to the bedroom.

When Stiles returned with the wet-naps, he cleaned Derek off following his instructions. The time would come when Derek would have Stiles lick him clean. The cop reached forward and ruffled his hair. "Good job boy." He pushed his feet back into his sweat pants and pulled them up, tucking himself away and securing the waist.

 

Before Stiles could get to his feet Derek leaned forward and snagged him around the waist and pulled him back between his open knees.

Now what?

Sure, firm hands adjusted his position until he knelt with his back to Derek, ass resting on his heels, hands resting palm down on his thighs, legs parted. Derek's hands covered Stiles, big, strong hands with long, powerful fingers. 

Derek leaned forward and his firm fingers massaged Stiles shoulders, his rough cheek bushed his hair and his breath gusted against the shell of his ear. He was caged, cocooned by the cop. His knees hemmed Stiles in and he felt strangely relaxed and safe. 

Maybe Derek liked him? Just a little bit?

"When I command you to kneel, for now just concentrate on getting there as quickly as possible, we'll work on form and grace later."

Stiles didn't want to argue with him and remained as the cop positioned him. "Yes Sir." He breathed.

Derek's hands swept down over his chest and the pads of his thumbs gazed against Stiles nipples, back and forth, back and forth. It was hypnotic and he had to stop himself from pushing into them. Stiles body hummed with electric anticipation and ribbons of sensation fluttered outward from his nipples. Why did it feel right that Derek should fondle him so? With anyone else it would feel like being groped and nobody's touch had never made him feel like this. One hand skimmed down his torso almost unnoticed and squirreled beneath his sweat pants and Derek wrapped his clever fingers around Stiles cock and began to stroke lightly.

Stiles tensed immediately but Derek just continued, one thumb grazing his nipple and the fingers of his other hand sliding up and down his cock.

"Well boy," Derek's voice trailed over him and caressed his senses with a velvet glove, "you may be new to giving head but you seem a mite aroused. Is that true?"

Stiles felt himself heat with mortification. How could he explain that sucking on Derek's cock and hearing his firm instructions, feeling his eyes on him, hearing his sounds of pleasure and imagining it, ignited his blood and set it coursing and sizzling through his veins? He felt more alive than he had ever done.

"Answer me Stiles." Derek trapped the nub of Stiles nipple between his thumb and forefinger and _pinched_. Sharp pain zipped through his body from his nipple to his cock and it jumped and throbbed against Derek's fingers and Stiles give a low groan. He couldn't focus on anything but where the cop was touching him and the sensations rippling through his body.

"You know it's true." Stiles gusted out on a cushion of breath.

This time Derek's fingers tightened painfully on his cock until Stiles made a soft sound of discomfort. "Sir. Yes sir," he mumbled.

"Stiles you have to learn to do as you're told and remember my rules. It's not hard."

Derek's firm words cut through the haze of pleasure that surrounded him.

"I can handle it." Stiles worried that he wouldn't be good enough, that Derek would get exasperated with him and ask him to leave. He worried about the easy way Derek was able to manipulate him and turn him on. The way he seemed to flip a switch and mess with his desires and emotions. Like now, he wanted to stay right where he was ... There with Derek cocooning him...Torturing his cock and nipples.

"You're a stubborn little thing, but you'll learn." There was a mysterious promise in Derek's tone.

He released Stiles, tugging his hand from his sweat pants. "Stand up now boy." He commanded. "We'll get a shower together and I want to bathe you, one day soon I'll show you how to bathe me, then we'll get dressed. I'll make a bite of lunch and this afternoon we'll go out and get dinner on the way home." Derek brushed the hair from Stiles face with two fingers and trailed them down his cheek, his neck to the dip of his throat below his collar and let them rest there. "Alright with you Stiles?"

Stiles lowered his gaze. "Anything you want sir."

Perfect, just perfect...


End file.
